


The Story of a Man, A Woman, and the Corpses of 1000 Evil Students

by earlysunsetsovermydeadbody



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bands, College, Drama, F/M, MCR, Mr. Way - Freeform, Music, Romance, School, Self Harm, Self-Harm, Smut, Teacher Frank, Teacher Gerard, Triggers, frank iero - Freeform, gerard way - Freeform, my chemical romance - Freeform, some smut at least, teacher, teacher!gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 64,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5711893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlysunsetsovermydeadbody/pseuds/earlysunsetsovermydeadbody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte's new professor brings excitement along with complications to her life. Balancing a stressful year at university is hard enough, but will having to juggle insane ex-boyfriends and an attractive, artistic professor become too much for her to handle?</p><p>TW: Suicidal ideation, drinking, smoking</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Camels

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic I've ever published! Pleast comment and let me know what you think, it's a work in progress.

_ Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. _

My boots were scuffing the pavement as I willed my body to get to class on time. The throbbing in my head echoed with each step I took, but every one brought me closer to the lecture hall. Normally I would be self conscious about my very obviously hung over appearance, but I pushed my sunglasses up my nose and kept going. I was too exhausted to care. 

I fished around in my jacket pocket for my pack of Camel’s and stuffed one in between my lips before lighting it. I still had to cross campus, so I had time for a smoke. I inhaled, feeling the cool menthol smoke pool in my lungs. I snorted it out of my nose in a rush, letting out a small cough. 

Someone else seemed to be walking towards the same building I was. I saw them in the corner of my eye, dressed all in black and taking large strides. I glanced at them quickly.

He was dressed smartly and had a peculiar bounce in his step for such an early hour. He had black dress pants, a black button up, a black waistcoat, and a black peacoat to top it all off. He must have caught me looking at him because he cut over to me, making me halt when he stopped in front of me.

“You can’t smoke on campus,” he said flatly. I blinked behind my sunglasses, slightly disappointed he couldn’t see me rolling my eyes.

“Nobody gives a shit,” I muttered, pursing my lips. “It’s too early for this, leave me alone.” I stepped around him, shoving my hands back in their pockets. I was freezing. 

“Give me one,” he said from behind me. I stopped, looking at him over my shoulder. The sun was starting to break through the clouds, right behind his head, and it killed my eyes. I didn’t feel up to arguing with him and kept walking. “Give me one, and I won’t report you.”

Now  _ that _ got on my nerves.

“What are you, three? You going to tell on me to the teacher?” I sneered.

“Just might. They’re slapping people with smoking fines. But I know where you don’t get caught.” He slid his sunglasses down his nose, looking at me expectantly. I begrudgingly held my pack out to him. “Follow me,” he said, his heels clicking on the pavement. 

“I have to get to class. Have a nice day, jackoff.” I made a beeline for my classroom, not caring to see his reaction. My cigarette had since gone out and I flicked it into a nearby planter before sneaking in the back door to the lecture hall. I rubbed my eyes under my glasses; it was going to be a long day.

I met up with my friend Jessica in the break we had between classes. We both had graphic design together next, and were stereotypically lying on the grass on one of the hills on campus. 

“It’s only the third week of classes and I already feel like dying,” Jessica said, lazily flicking through her phone. “Only one more year til graduation, and boy, let me tell you, I am so fucking ready.”

“Me too. I’m ready to get a degree in a field that I’m never going to be able to find a job in because I’m shit. I’m shit at design, Jessica.” I said, staring up at the clouds.

“No you’re not, Charlotte. Hell, you’re better than me. And you know it,” she said, rising to her feet. She held a hand down to me, “come on. We have art next.” I took her hand and stretched, shaking the grass out of my short hair. I still wasn’t used to my new schedule, so I wasn’t all too sure where the classes were. I just walked in the general direction of the art building, Jessica guiding me to the right classroom. We took our usual seats at the back, but my heart froze when I looked to the teacher’s desk after getting my sketchbook from my backpack.

“Do you know where Hawthorn is?” I hissed to Jessica, who was regarding our substitute with hooded eyes.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” she purred. Hawthorn was our beloved androgynous graphic arts professor, and her disappearance caused me stress. She had taught me almost all of the years I had been at this university.

“Don’t open your legs yet, Jessica. This guy is an asshole. Threatened to report me for smoking on campus this morning then told me to bum him a cigarette,” I whispered to her. She shrugged.

“Hey, you need to stop smoking. He should have reported you,” she grunted.

“I do it for the  _ motion _ of smoking, not the nicotine addiction. I can stop smoking anytime I want!” I said, my voice rising despite my caution at this new sub.

“Do it. Give me your cigarettes,” she held her hand out flatly, not even looking at me. When I didn’t put them in her hand, she glanced at me. “That’s what I thought, Charlie.” I sunk down in my seat after that, glaring at anybody who tried to talk to me. I kept my sketchbook shut, along with my lips. I sunk even lower in my seat when the new teacher stood up. He had shed his jacket and had rolled up his sleeves, revealing creamy toned arms beneath. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes at my fascination with his pixie like appearance. The jet black hair was a nice cherry on top.

“Welcome, everybody. I’ll get it out of the way, Professor Hawthorn has fallen ill and won’t be back for quite some time. In the meantime, I’m taking over her curriculum and am here to show you all how to get really,  _ really _ good at algebra.” He stood at his desk, arms crossed. He got a few chuckles from the crowd. “Good. I’m Professor Way, or you can call me Gerard, I do not entirely  _ care _ ,” he drew his words out as he surveyed the class, “it seems pretty formal to call me professor seeing as half of you look the same age as me.”

Some jackass in the middle rows decided to call out a question. “If I’m older than you then why should you be my teacher?”

“Well, sir, it looks like I’m smarter than you, otherwise we wouldn’t be in this mess, would we?” Gerard flashed a quick grimace before opening his laptop. “Today, we’re going to talk about the dangers of smoking and why you should quit.”

 

That class was a nightmare. Everytime he opened his mouth to say something, I half expected some shitty call out or ridicule on my behalf. But it didn’t happen. Instead, he passive aggressively showed me just how much of an asshole he was. Needless to say, I was somewhat grateful because some of the kids in those class, and I do mean  _ kids _ , needed to have their ass handed to them by the Professor of Sass.

Jessica ran off because she had some sort of meeting, so I was left to clean up my workstation by myself. I hurried, not wanting to be the last person left in the classroom, but by the time I was done, I looked up and realized Gerard had already left. I breathed a sigh of relief and was filling my head with thoughts of lunch when I left.

I began to think that maybe I actually should quit smoking. Not only would it cut down probably in half the amount of strangers and homeless people asking me for free cigarettes, I wouldn’t run the risk of having to cut a hole in my neck when I was old and in a nursing home. I shuddered at the mental image. Not that I thought I would live that long anyway. Looking out at the courtyard in front of the food hall, I realized it was only a matter of time before I snapped and filled my bathtub up with the blood from my wrists.

As I was locked in my suicidal daydream, thinking of all the things I couldn’t wait to leave behind in this world when I finally got the guts to kill myself, someone began tapping my shoulder. I spun around, feeling oddly embarrassed at the fact that I was in a fantasy world where everything was dead.

Suddenly, though I didn’t think it possible, I wished I was even more dead.

“What?” I snapped at him, looking up into his hazel eyes. His sparkling, ebony rimmed eyes.  _ Snap out of it, Charlotte! _

“Pleasant, aren’t you?” Gerard quipped, before sighing. “Thank you for the cigarette this morning.”

“Sure you’re not going to report me?” I half smirked. Shit, was I flirting?

“Not unless I catch you again,” he said, cocking one eyebrow. 

“Unlikely to happen, ‘cuz that was my last one and my friend wants me to quit.” I shrugged, trying to get my bag strap further up on my arm. He regarded me coolly before putting a cigarette in between his own lips.

“What a drag.”

He stared down at me for a while before I finally had to ask, “Well, are you going to light that?”

“Not here, because I’m a respectable professor that doesn’t smoke in no-smoke zones,” he turned on his heel and was about to walk away, but he glanced over his shoulder at me, slowly dangling another cigarette from his fingertips in my direction. My eyes widened. Jessica wouldn’t care if I had one.

I trotted after him, stuffing my hands into my pockets. He had whipped the cigarette out of my reach and started walking to the side of campus where we had some unsightly portable buildings. There was an alcove in between those and the parking structure, surrounding on one side by a cement wall and the other with a chain link fence. Gerard leaned up against the wall, finally lighting his cigarette. He held the other one out to me.

“Do you want it?” He said, his words muffled by his cigarette. 

“Sure.” I held out my hand, but he didn’t drop the cigarette in it. Instead, he strode over to me, took the cigarette out from between his lips, and slowly pushed it in between mine. I froze, feeling the slightly wet filter in between my lips. I tasted a hint of cherry chapstick and smirked. 

“Thanks.” I muttered, not entirely sure how to react. But my insides were kind of...a little bit...on fire. Or something like that.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, putting another in between his lips before leaning in to use the cherry on mine to light his own.  _ Oh no _ . I leaned against the wall.

“So how old are you? Are you really qualified to be teaching at a college level and hitting on girls that just turned twenty-one?” I said. 

“It could be worse, you could have said you just turned eighteen,” he said, blowing a cloud of smoke above my head. “And I’m not hitting on you,” he added flatly.

“Good. Because if you were, that would be breaking some rule somewhere,” I muttered.

“Quite the contrary, that’s usually only a problem when you teach high school. We’re adults now,” he trailed off. “What’s your name?”

“Charlotte. I would ask yours but you made it apparent in class today. How long are you going to be teaching my class?”

“Why? Hate me already?” He rolled his cigarette between his fingers thoughtfully, glaring up at me over it. 

“Yep, have to say that I do.”


	2. Rosé

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter!

The next few weeks in Gerard’s class were a mixture of annoyance, purposefully breaking rules to piss him off, and an incredible amount of sexual tension. Jessica made sure that I knew of every instance he could be caught looking at me. 

“Cool,” I said to her for the umpteenth time that day.

“Have you guys hooked up?” Jessica asked excitedly, leaning over onto my desk.

“ _ No _ . He’s insufferable. He always tells me I’m doing something wrong and then goes out of his way to talk to me after class.” I didn’t look up at her from my notes, but I could feel her disbelief wafting through the air.

“Charlie, honey, I know you haven’t dated a lot of guys,” she began sarcastically, “but that means he’s trying to find an excuse to spend time with you. It’s pretty obvious to me he has a thing for you, but whatever, girl. Just let that poor pixie man waste away.” She turned back to her own desk, scribbling something down.

As if on cue, Gerard stood up and announced class was over and for everybody to “get the hell out.” When he spoke to the class, he spoke with a light and joking tone so as to not convey the contempt and fucking assholery I knew he had inside. I escaped class with Jessica that day, thrilled that it was Friday. I had a long weekend of relaxing at home, not getting dressed, and doing absolutely nothing.

“Hey, do you maybe want to come over later?” I asked Jessica as we made our way to the market for lunch. She scrunched up her face in thought.

“Maybe. There’s supposed to be a house party at Delta House tonight, and some of my friends wanted me to go, but I’m not sure if I will yet.” I nodded. No problem, I’d just stay in tonight.

  
  


Hours later, and I sat alone in my apartment. It was almost three in the morning. My phone wasn’t lighting up with messages anymore. I was truly alone. 

It was nights like these that I began to ponder everything. The world seemed so loud and I was a tiny voice, trying to get people to either listen to me or be quiet. I wandered to the kitchen to see if I had some soup to heat up, because comfort food was what I needed at that moment. Something to fill my belly with feelings of contentedness, not anxiety.

I passed my nightstand, rattling my pill bottle just to be sure that I didn’t have any xanax left. I didn’t know what I had been expecting-to have been visited by the xanax fairy in the middle of the night, maybe-but my hopes were dashed when the bottle didn’t rattle back. If I was going to sleep, I had to make a run to the 7-11 on the corner.

Instead of making soup, I put on a jacket and some boots over my pajamas before locking up my apartment and walking down the street. I was sure that I looked like a mess, but I wasn’t in any state to be caring. Insomnia makes everything a little toned down. You don’t notice everything, some things you can’t hear at all. It’s like you’re reaching for things that you can never fully grasp because they’re right out of range. You can’t see them, but you know they’re there. 

And sometimes, that’s even scarier.

I bought a bottle of sleeping pills and a four dollar bottle of wine. If I ended up still not being able to sleep from the pills, I’d just down the bottle and call it a night. I was giving the cashier my ID when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Charlotte?” They said, in disbelief. My heart both sunk and did somersaults at the same time as I turned around and was face to face with my most recent ex-boyfriend. Looking into his face, it was as if I had just ran into him yesterday. He was beaming. “Oh my god, how  _ are _ you?”

I grimaced, motioning to the things that I was buying. “The same, as you can see. How are you doing, Anthony?” I was genuinely happy to see him. Also a bit frightened.

“Oh, man, am I doing great. I’m on set to finish my degree, I’ve got a solid job and I’ve been hitting the gym everyday, so no time to do much else in between!” He grinned, straightening his arms so I could see  _ just how strong _ he was. Internally I groaned, but I had to hand it to him, he was still kind of attractive.

“Nice,” I said, paying the cashier and leaned against the door. “Well, I’m going to get lost, but it was good seeing you.”

“Yeah, and Charlotte? If you’d ever want to get a cup of coffee to catch up, I’d really like that,” Anthony said. My heart fluttered in my chest.

“Uh, sure, I would be down for that.” My breathing was shallow and a feeling of...euphoria? was flooding through me. This was the boy that had broken my heart. That had walked away and left me dying. I hadn’t heard from him in three months and then this chance encounter.

“Tomorrow?” He asked hopefully.

“Sure. See you later,” I stepped back out into the night, not sure if I instantly regretted what I did or not.

That morning I sat out on my patio bundled up, listening to music and smoking. The sleeping pills hadn’t done anything, and I was too alone with my thoughts to even consider beginning to relax. Anthony was...something else.

He had been my high school sweetheart gone sour. My first real heartbreak, something I had not completely recovered from, simply pushed further from my mind. He had poisoned me from the inside out, and I hadn’t been able to completely trust a guy since. My family had fought to get me away from him, out of our small town and into the big city to the university. And I was actually going to get coffee with him tomorrow?

The last time we had seen each other it had ended in screaming and slammed doors. Would this time be any different?

I took a large gulp from the bottle of rosé wine and noted, no, probably not.


	3. Black Velvet

Anthony and I had gone out the next day and I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about it. It was nice to not be thinking about my overly attractive art professor. He had been in the forefront of my mind for the past few weeks ever since the start of term, and I was starting to get annoyed by myself what with the stolen glances and burning looks during class.

Things had been going well with Anthony, and I was beginning to feel so hopeful. It felt nice to feel something like love again, when I had been sitting inside my apartment cold and unfeeling for so many nights. About a week after our first “date”, Anthony spent the night at my house after a long Friday night of bar hopping. We collapsed in a giggling heap on my bed, him pinning me down with my shoulders. I wasn’t surprised I had only lasted a week against our sexual tension; it was notorious.

As he nuzzled my neck with his teeth, my toes curled and I was in heaven. It felt so good to be loved again, I was drunk off it. And all of the shots we had thrown back a few hours prior. Nonetheless, something in my chest was feeling whole. 

We were both tired so we didn’t last too long. He left in a hurry afterwards after realizing how long we had been going at it. He said he had a class in the morning. I laid in bed after he left, a wet spot still where his sweaty body had laid a few moments ago. The smell of his cologne wafted from the sheets, and I sighed heavily into my pillow. If this was what I wanted, why didn’t I feel better? There was something heavy in my chest weighing me down, but I couldn’t put a finger on it.

I woke up the next day with weights for eyelids. The drive to campus was a blur. Everything was a blur. Mostly because I hadn’t gotten my new glasses yet. I pulled into a parking spot easily; maybe I had just arrived here earlier than...literally anybody else?

I frowned as I got out of my car, my door slamming loudly behind me and echoing off the empty asphalt. My first class of the day was art, so I sucked it up and trudged to Gerard’s class. I wrenched open the door, almost dropping my book bag in surprise.

The entire classroom was empty, except Gerard. Music was blasting through the roof, the metal plates from the screen printing class rattling against their shelves. The thick smell of oil paint hung heavy in the air, stinging my nostrils. Gerard was another story, though.

He was currently sliding across the front of the classroom wildly waving around a paintbrush coated in red paint. A heavy black robe hung off his shoulders and he was belting the words out at the top of his lungs.

At this sight, I actually did drop my book bag as the door closed heavily behind me. Gerard jumped feet into the air, dropping his paintbrush onto the canvas beneath him.

“Oh my God, have you heard of knocking?” He shouted, a deep crimson red bleeding out from beneath his cheeks and spreading over his whole face. He hastily tied the black plush robe around him, his black boxers peeking out from underneath.

“What the fuck is this? I’m showing up for class!” I shouted back, throwing my hands out to my sides in exasperation. “I literally dragged my hungover ass out of bed to be here and I’m greeted with your pasty white ass?”

I found it difficult to breathe, as my heart beat was racing. Seeing someone’s sculpted pecs shouldn’t affect me like this. “It’s the first day of Thanksgiving break, Miss Payn.”

Gerard was still frozen as he said those words, staring at me, the paintbrush still dangling dangerously in the air. He blinked at me a few times, and I blinked back. And then we both burst out into uninterruptable peals of laughter. As if I hadn’t already lost my breath, I couldn’t breathe. Tears were forming at the corner of my eyes. Gerard was hooting, having long since dropped the paintbrush onto the floor. Eventually, we both collected ourselves.

“Well, fuck me. I had no idea. Nobody told me! My family didn’t even call me to see if I was coming home! What the hell is this?” I said, slowly falling down from the high I had moments before to a sudden, crippling hole in my chest. Did my family not even care? It seemed like everybody would have forgotten about me if I wasn’t there. 

New tears were forming at the corners of my eyes, and this time not from laughter. I leaned against one of the drawing tables, my breathing become shallow and irregular.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Gerard rushed over to me. “Do you need water? Is something wrong?” The concern in his voice was something new to me, and my sadness was momentarily interrupted by surprise and me taking a step back.

“No,” was all I could say before I launched into hysterical tears. I wanted to shrink and hide under one of the angled drawing tables. This was so embarrassing. A box of tissues was thrusted under my nose. I gathered myself together for a few moments to try to choke some words out. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I’ll let you get back to your painting.” I began to walk out of the classroom when Gerard spoke.

“If you think I’m going to send a hysterical, obviously emotionally distressed woman back out there with no offer to be of help, you’re sorely mistaken.” He caught my elbow, guiding me up to his desk and into his chair. “Sit.”

Tears were silently streaming down my face at this point. I dabbed at them with one of the tissues, painfully aware of how my makeup must be running. After I had calmed down a little, I just stared down at the bunched up tissues in my hand under his desk. Beads of sweat were dangling off my forehead.

“Why is it so hot in here?” I croaked out before shrugging off my jacket. Gerard’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

“I like to parade around in my underwear working on some pieces, I don’t exactly like to freeze in November when I do so,” he smirked. I giggled.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I couldn’t help but ask. He considered this question for a second, crossing his arms as he perched on the corner of his desk.

“I’m just trying to be a decent human being. Why are you crying in my classroom on the first day of break?” He retorted.

I also had to ponder the answer to this question. I wasn’t exactly sure. “A lot of things. I had a somewhat shitty night last night, and now I know my family doesn’t care about me. And I just had an emotional breakdown in front of my professor, which wouldn’t have happened if somebody had told me it was break today.”

“I’m sure somebody, somewhere or somehow, did tell you it was break. It’s kind of been all over the school. That aside,” he added quickly when I became visibly annoyed, “I’m sorry to hear you had a shitty night. Can I ask what happened?” He was eyeing me delicately, which worried me.

My heart plummeted as I realized in taking off my jacket, I had revealed the dozens of hickies Anthony had left all over me last night. I scrambled for it, but he cut me off, sensing my panic.

“No point in sweating like a pig since the damage is already done. Not like I’ve never seen or gotten any of those before in my life. We’re both adults here. I only asked because I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said quietly. I wanted to shake my head in disbelief, but those words did come out of his mouth.

“Why would you care? Honestly, real question. I do try to be an asshole to you most of the time but I’m not right now,” I admitted.

“Someone crying hysterically and being covered in bruises? It would be shitty of me to not make sure they were fine. It’s part of my job; make sure you crazy kids don’t beat each other to a pulp and people who need to be reported get reported.”

“OH. Oh, no, no, it was nothing like that. It was very consensual,” I cringed as I spoke these words to him. My professor. Whom I found very attractive. “But thank you?” He just nodded, eyes trailing up my neck. I pretended to not notice. “What are you doing here on break? Shouldn’t you be at home with your family?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “I would love to, but I don’t have much family at home, let alone family in a respectable distance. They’re all mostly in New Jersey, but my brother is a musician out on the road right now. My parents have their own families now. So it’s just me. I use this space the way it’s supposed to be used when there are no students wasting it away.”

I had two thoughts. First, he didn’t have a girlfriend. Second, did he think I wasted space in this class? New third thought, why did it matter to me so much? Pushed it to the back of my mind with all of my other unpleasant thoughts.

“I just can’t believe my family didn’t reach out to me,” I said numbly to nobody in particular. Gerard let out a low sigh.

“It’s not exactly late in the week. You have what, three days? You could easily travel back home by then,” he said, getting up from his desk to put on a tee shirt. I watched his back muscles stretch before he pulled it snugly down, quickly looking away when he turned around. “Sorry, I suppose I need to make myself presentable.” He fished out a pair of jeans from under his desk, scooting my legs to the side.

“I don’t have the money to travel right now anyway, so it’s probably a good thing,” I said, burning a hole into the ground so as to not look at him while he was putting pants on. I hadn’t noticed how quiet it was in the classroom; he must have turned the music off when I had walked in on him. He walked back to the front of his desk, zipping up a jacket. “I’ll get out of your hair. Thank you for the tissues.”

“Have you eaten breakfast?” He said, stooping down to grab a backpack with sketchbooks and paintbrushes sticking out of the zipper. He tossed a tarp on top of the painting he had on the ground. The question took me aback.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you look hungover as all fuck, and I’m going to get breakfast now. Do you want to come?” Gerard stated coolly. My cheeks flushed.

“I think I’m okay. I don’t want to intrude.” I stuttered, picking up my own sketchbooks. His eyes darted from the books I was holding to my face.

“What the hell would you be intruding on? It’s just me. Truth be told, I feel bad kicking you out of my room so abruptly and since it seems we’re the only people on this campus, we can at least take advantage of that and not deal with ungodly lines at the market.” He grabbed some papers from his desk, nodding towards the door. I zipped my own jacket up and filed out the door, waiting for him to lock it before we walked across campus.

“So how long have you been teaching?” I asked, trying to make some form of small talk with him.

“About five years. I know,” he glanced at me sideways, “didn’t expect that answer, did you? You thought I was a kid just out of grad school, huh?”

“I think everybody does,” I said, slightly shocked. He chuckled.

“I’m going to be twenty-nine. I don’t think anybody in that class actually is older than me. I just like to make them feel small sometimes,” he confided. It was my turn to chuckle.

“Well, you succeeded.” I looked down at my shoes as we walked. I felt so out of place, being oddly friendly with him. Maybe I had been wrong to assume he was an asshole.

“It’s always scary coming in to take over for a class. A lot of people are attached to the teacher you’re replacing and they hate you before even meeting you. So I try to make it fun to change their minds,” Gerard explained. I nodded.

“Makes sense. I’d never be able to do what you do.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” He asked as he held the door open to the market for me. I fished out my school ID, looking around; he had assumed right, it was nearly deserted. We piled up on waffles and fruit and coffee before finding a place out on the patio to eat.

“I don’t know. For a long time I wanted to go into psychology, then I wanted to go into photography. I’m just kind of floating around right now, and it’s terrifying. I’ll know soon; I have to decide before the end of this semester,” I said, my heart sinking at my own words. Gerard raised his eyebrows as he scraped the food off his fork.

“That sucks.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes, which I was more than okay with. Normally Jessica would chit-chat at me constantly with me only chiming in to agree with her or tell her what a bitch that bitch was being. This was different, and this was nice. The fountain down the stairs from the patio tinkled quietly in the distance, and the storm clouds were clearing up. Every now and then I glanced at Gerard; he had pulled some of his sketchbooks out and was going over them with scrutinizing eyes.

“You’re great at drawing,” I noted. He flicked his wrist lazily in my direction. “I mean, I get that’s why you’re our professor. That was stupid.” He stopped boring into his book and looked me in the eyes.

“That wasn’t stupid. Don’t call things you say stupid. You’re a bright kid and don’t need that negativity,” Gerard grunted. I sat there in surprise for a few moments before continuing my meal. “Sorry if that was weird. It’s just something my brother taught me that I’ve become to believe firmly. The world is constantly trying to convince you that you aren’t good enough, so you don’t need to play into that.”

I stabbed a piece of pineapple with my fork as some birds flew into the courtyard, providing incessant background noise for our somewhat awkward conversation, at least for me. Gerard was working furiously on something in his work, and I felt like an awkward brown noser for having breakfast with a professor.

A few minutes later, and Gerard thrusted a paper into my hands. “The lighting was perfect on your cheeks. I had to.” It was a drawing of me, delicately assessing the stack of pancakes that I had over encumbered my plate with. I let out a small giggle, glancing up at him to find warmness in his eyes before gazing back at the paper. 

“This is great. Nobody’s ever drawn me before. Do you want it back?” I asked shyly. He shook his head curtly, standing up and stretching. 

“I have to run and do some errands before the stores get any crazier than they probably already are,” he said dejectedly. He grabbed his backpack but abruptly set it back down when he seemed to remember something. “Oh, and one more thing,” he fished into his pockets, handing me a business card. “I hate to think of you spending all week alone, and I’m not trying to come off the wrong way here, but that’s my cell phone if you need me.”

I took it, nodding. “Thanks. Here,” I grabbed a pen from my bag and a crumpled napkin from breakfast to scribble my own number on and handed it to him, “I just realized you probably have no need for this, but it just seemed appropriate I guess? I don’t know, I’m rather hungover right now. But that’s mine.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he folded it up and placed it in his backpack. “Hang in there,” he said, giving me a rough pat on the back as he walked off behind me. I sat in the courtyard for a few more minutes, until the sun went away behind the clouds. That had to have been the most pleasant breakfast I’d had with someone in a long time.

And that horrified me.


	4. Pancakes and Drainage Pipes

Gerard’s business card burned a hole in my jacket pocket all day. I had no reason to message him; I would have been an annoyance. But as I wandered around the deserted campus, I couldn’t help but feel the cravings for some human company. After about an hour of sitting in various spots normally crowded with jocks and sorority sisters and enjoying my freedom to smoke, I began the walk back to my car, dialing my mom as I went.

 

To my surprise, she picked up on the second ring. “Hey mom, it’s Charlotte. I was just wondering what your plans for Thanksgiving were,” I said.

 

“Charlotte! I’m sorry, I’ve been meaning to call you, but every time I pick up the phone something happens, you know? So busy!” She said, her voice trailing off. “We’re having a really quiet Thanksgiving this year and didn’t want to have you pay for a train ticket or drive all the way down here to LA.”

 

“I would have been fine with it,” I said. “I miss you guys.”

 

“I miss you too. Jordin says hi. He’s hopefully going to be making varsity track this year! Winter track starts up soon for him,” she sung after I heard my younger brother’s muffled voice in the background.

 

“Well that’s cool. Tell him to text me sometime, I miss him,” I admitted, nearing my car. “Anyway mom, I have to drive, but I love you, and I’ll see you at Christmas for sure.”

 

“Alright baby. I love you too! Book your ticket soon!” She said before hanging up. I stood outside of my car for a few moments more, my chest suddenly feeling very heavy. I felt it moving with every pound of my heart, making me feel lighthead. I either needed to quit smoking or start running again. As I sat down in my driver’s seat, I noticed a piece of paper folded up under my windshield wiper blade.

 

Groaning, I got back out of my car and snatched it, unfolding it when I was sitting back down again. It was another drawing of me, sitting on the drainage pipe out back by the gymnasium and smoking a cigarette, exactly what I had been doing about a half hour ago. It was one of my favorite spots in the school to sit on because it was right on the side of a hill, and I could see out almost to the ocean from it. Gerard’s signature, GW, was in the bottom right corner, along with a message in scrawled handwriting along the bottom.

 

“Smoking will kill you but at least you look cool.”

 

I folded it back up, a sad smile on my face. Maybe if I stayed on the campus I would come back to a car filled with drawings of my various dramatic smoking poses. I inwardly laughed at the thought before I willed my engine to life and drove back home.

 

I ended up changing back into pajamas and sleeping for a good few hours, only woken up by my phone vibrating on my hardwood nightstand. I missed the phone calls, but I had four unread texts from Anthony, each with increasing urgency as to wondering why I wasn’t picking up my phone, was I ignoring him? I was being a real bitch, apparently. 

 

In the daylight, hooking up with him last night was an incredibly bad lapse of judgement on my behalf. I couldn’t do this again. And last night made it painfully obvious how very different the two things we were looking for were. I dialed his number, my breathing becoming shallow. He snapped at me when he answered the call. “Now you finally call me.”

 

“I’m sorry, I was sleeping,” I muttered. I took a deep breath to garner some courage. “I can’t go out with you tonight. I know we had plans, but I can’t go out with you again. I’m sorry.” I hung up before he could get another word in, a giant weight lifted off my chest. My phone began to buzz, ringing off the hook with texts peppered in between the missed calls. I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t want to pick it up and apologize and say it was a joke and of course I wanted to see him and would he come over and cuddle with me right now?

 

Instead I leaned back onto my pillows, a tear streaming down my face. Anthony wasn’t healthy for me. I tried to avoid thinking about it, but breakfast with Gerard was something that catalysed this. Gerard had been so...genuine. There was something comfortable in the silence we shared even though I was an anxious bundle of nerves sitting across from him. And then there were the drawings. I rolled over to fish around in my bag for them, gazing at them again. 

 

The angles on my face were so sharp; he made me look so elegant. I looked in this drawing how I wish I looked in real life. Regal, killer. A cigarette dangling from my lips, my sunglasses pushed down to the end of my nose. I looked beautiful. 

 

I wondered if this was how I looked to him.

 

Setting the drawings down and rolling to my other side, I caught a glimpse at my reflection in the mirror. If only my cheeks were a little thinner, my bangs a little longer, my skin a little clearer...if only I could get rid of this pooch of fat underneath my belly button. Maybe then I could look as stunning as Gerard seemed to think I was.

 

I caught myself, confused at my own thoughts. I was assuming he thought I was attractive. Slowly spinning around, my eyes on my reflection, I wished he did.

 

I cleaned around the apartment, biding my time and ignoring my phone. Eventually, the calls ceased and I erased the history, the unheard voicemails, the texts calling me a bitch with more capital letters each time. Deleted. After I added Anthony’s number to my blocked list, I stared at my phone in a daze. It wouldn’t be weird if I texted Gerard and just thanked him for the other drawing.

 

I, of course, couldn’t just say that.

 

**To Gerard, 2:14 PM**

**Some asshole left a Chinese takeout menu on my car this morning.**

 

After I sent it, I began to panic. Maybe I shouldn’t have been sarcastic. What if I offended him about not being more grateful for his drawing? Before I set my phone down on the counter in order to stop myself from throwing it off the balcony, it lit up with a response from him.

 

**From Gerard, 2:14 PM**

**Is it at least quality Chinese food?**

 

A wave of relief rushed over me and I caught myself smiling at my phone like an idiot, causing me to pause and wonder when the last time I had done that was.

 

**To Gerard, 2:16 PM**

**Very quality. I thank the man who left it on my car.**

 

**From Gerard, 2:17 PM**

**The man appreciated your company this morning.**

 

Butterflies were flitting about in my stomach, making it churn and burn...in a good way? I couldn’t believe this guy, this person who I thought was a complete asshole before this morning, was telling me he appreciated my company after drawing me twice in one morning? Nobody had ever drawn me before. I was trying to think of something to say when my phone buzzed again.

 

**From Gerard, 2:21 PM**

**He also hopes it wasn’t awkward for you.**

 

**To Gerard, 2:22 PM**

**I hoped it wasn’t awkward for him, I am the one that walked in on him in his underwear and began to cry.**

 

**To Gerard, 2:23 PM**

**Which I feel like is not a reaction most men want.**

 

This was adorable. I had half of a mind to ask him if he would want to get breakfast again sometime, but I wasn’t going to push it. I just couldn’t shake the feeling of being so connected to someone like I felt with him this morning. Which was probably just my hormones and the fact that he comforted me when I felt like shit. Stupid biological tendencies, making me attracted to people who I felt protected by.

 

**From Gerard, 2:25 PM**

**You have to at least get one of those in your lifetime, I’m glad mine is out of the way**

 

I didn’t reply to him because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to communicate with him a second longer lest I burst into flames of desire and infatuation. He was my professor, for crying out loud. There was probably something against it in the university’s policies somewhere, even if we both were consenting adults. Nothing could happen, because it would count as an abuse of his authority and could cost him his job. 

 

I did everything I could to busy myself that day. Besides cleaning the whole apartment, I actually went grocery shopping, then stopped by the campus gym later in the evening to work out all of the anxiety Gerard was causing me. Jess laughed and laughed at me over the phone for not realizing it was break today, but I guess that’s what happens when you live off campus and not in a dorm; you don’t realize when nobody’s around because you’re not around students.

 

I settled onto the couch after quite a productive day, wishing I had a dog to cuddle with, but both of mine were back home in Los Angeles. Jess called me again later to tell me that she had somebody she wanted to set me up on a date with the week classes resumed, so that boosted my ego a bit. But nothing boosted me like the text I got after Jessica and I hung up.

 

**From Gerard, 7:48 PM**

**Breakfast again tomorrow?**

 

I stared at my phone for a few minutes in disbelief, then remembered I already hadn’t texted him back from earlier so I was being rather rude.

 

**To Gerard, 7:51 PM**

**You betcha. Market again?**

 

**From Gerard, 7:51 PM**

**I’ll be there around ten.**

 

**To Gerard, 7:53 PM**

**I’ll meet you there if I can get my ass out of bed**

 

**From Gerard, 7:54**

**You better, I want to draw you more.**

 

_Shit._


	5. Animals and Cardboard Boxes

I think the only reason I was up early was because I was so exhausted from all of the stress from the day before and incredibly anxious about seeing Gerard again for breakfast. I played over and over in my head how I thought it was going to pan out. He wasn’t going to like talking to me anymore now that we hadn’t had an awkward interaction before to break the ice. He was going to look at me and think, Wow, I can’t believe I drew her yesterday, she’s hideous. Or maybe he wasn’t even going to show up.

 

My fears were proven wrong when I walked onto campus at exactly ten in the morning. After I had passed rows and rows of buildings, the second story balcony patio outside of the market came into view, and I spotted a familiar shock of pitch blackness against the normally colorful scenery. He rose to his feet as I ascended the steps.

 

“Right on time,” I said, “or have you been waiting?”

 

He shrugged and shook his head slightly, “not really. It was a beautiful day and I was up early.” I looked up at the sky. It was completely overcast, causing me to give him a questioning look. “Clouds are beautiful. I like it best when it’s cloudy.”

 

After we had gotten our breakfast and been informed the market would close later that day until the following Monday when class resumes, we sat back out on the windy balcony. The clouds were getting darker now. We shot the shit about your usual conversation subjects; how both of us hoped it was going to rain, how neither of us were looking forward to having to go back to having classes, and how much nicer the school was without everybody around.

 

“I do enjoy teaching though. You get to meet a lot of cool people, which is neat. It gives me a purpose, I think,” Gerard said after taking a sip of his coffee, looking down at his nearly empty cup with too much sadness.

 

“Your teaching style is interesting. There’s tons of professors out there who try to be cool and hip with the kids. Maybe it helps that you’re only twelve,” I said over my own coffee. He wrinkled his nose despite his smile.

 

“Your learning style is interesting.”   
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Whatever you want it to mean,” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the sky again. “I really hope it rains.”

 

“You’ve said that. I want it to rain, too, but it needs to wait until I’m back indoors.” I gestured to the light cardigan I was wearing, Gerard’s eyes raking my torso. My cheeks burned.

 

“What have you got going on the rest of the day? Not going to visit family, I presume?” He asked. I shook my head.

 

“I talked to my mom yesterday and I’m just going to be staying here for the rest of the week.  And the weeks after that. Obviously.”   
  
“Obviously.”   
  
There was a small pause before I got the guts to continue the conversation. “What are you going to be doing?”

 

“I have commissions I’m supposed to be working on, and some of my pieces are going to be featured in an exhibit downtown Friday so I need to make sure everything is squared away with that,” he said casually, as if it were no big deal. I’d never had any of my art featured anywhere before. “Leave it to me to wait until three days before the opening.”

 

“That’s awesome! Where are they going to be on display?” I tried to contain my admiration, but had the feeling I was failing miserably. He gave me an interesting little smile before explaining.

 

“It’s nothing big. Just a local exhibit at Black Bean Brewery, a coffee shop-”

 

“Oh yeah! I know that place. Damn, that’s a nice coffee shop, that’s really awesome for you,” I said. I wish my art would get put on display somewhere.

 

“It’ll be fun. Do you want to go to the opening with me?” He asked, sounding a bit wary. Had I heard him right?

 

“Go with you?” I asked, slightly incredulous.

 

He let out a small giggle. “Uh, yeah. If it’s weird that’s fine, I just figured I would extend the invitation since you seemed to like the coffee shop.”

 

“No, I would really love to go. I’d definitely be down,” I said quickly, before he had the chance to change his mind once he realized how much of a loser I really was.

 

“Great. Can I pick you up at five? Like I said, it’s not until Friday.” Gerard played with the bits of pancakes left on his plate. I hoped I wasn’t making him feel too awkward.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be around then,” I smiled over my last sip of coffee. Just then, Gerard’s phone began to ring. He was about to dismiss it when he took a second glance at the screen before sighing, standing up from the table.

 

“I’m sorry, I have to take this real quick, I’ll be right back,” he said as he picked up the call, trotting down the steps to pace through the long courtyard in front of the market. The leaves on the trees that dotted the gravel path were turning a bright tangerine color, and some were already drifting to the ground, dancing on the wind on their way down. A few had gotten caught in the fountain that laid at the very end of the path.

 

I decided that, since there wasn’t really anybody around, I could smoke on the patio. I lit up a cigarette, my lighter flicking to life in a shower of sparks. As a drew in a deep breath, the smoke burning the back of my lungs, I saw Gerard look up from one of the many benches that lined the path, a smirk on his lips as he shook his head ‘no’ at me. I did a comical, exaggerated shrug, flicking my cigarette ash into the air. His shoulders shook with a silent laugh. I wondered if that was a girl he was talking to. Then I wondered why I cared.

 

About five minutes later he returned to his seat across from me at the metal table. “Sorry about that,” he began apologetically, “it was an old friend of mine. He’s in the process of moving apartments right now and has just ultimately tied up the rest of the break by roping me up to help him.”

 

I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. So it had been a guy. Then a new horror struck me; was he gay?

 

“Don’t sweat it. If you need any other help, I drive a truck. Granted it’s a Ranger so it’s more car than truck, but it gets the job done,” I said, immediately regretting my choice. Why would he want me to help? I was coming off desperate, but there was a small truth in that; I was desperate to be around him, to feed off this spark within Gerard that just brought out my own creativity and positivity. He was captivating and bringing such extra anxiety into my days.

 

“That would actually be amazing, if you’re being serious. Frank has a lot of shit; it’s a wonder how he managed to get it all packed up,” Gerard raised his eyebrows in question to me. I nodded.

 

And that was how I filled up all of my days for Thanksgiving break. Gerard texted me Frank’s address after sheepishly asking me if I was free for the day. Of course I was, I had told him. I didn’t have a life. Any excuse to be around you and breathe in your intoxicating vibe, I had added internally.

 

I barely knew Gerard, so I was incredibly nervous to meet one of his friends. But Frank was the most personable person I had ever met. He wrapped me in a hug, loudly stating how “fucking stoked” he was that I had offered to help. Frank was a bubble of pure energy, almost too bright to look at when he got excited about something. He was covered in tattoos, and I thought that was incredible. Maybe shaggy black hair just ran in the friend group, I thought to myself. 

 

After working for a few hours, we sat down around a fire pit on his back patio. All of us had a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. 

 

“So where are you moving to?” I asked Frank. 

 

“Not too far from here at all, actually. Into the Suncrest Apartment building about a mile from campus. It’s just easier to have an apartment than a house right now. I don’t need all this fucking space,” Frank grinned, gesturing vaguely to the area around him.

 

“Oh! That’s the apartment building I live in. They’re nice apartments, you’ll like it. Are you going to school?” I said. Frank and Gerard both erupted into peals of laughter, and I glanced back and forth between them. Frank laughed with his head thrown back, his hair shaking. Gerard scrunched up his nose and eyes, curling over at the waist.

 

“God no. I’m actually going to be teaching there, thanks to my buddy Gerard for the sick hookup,” he said, elbowing Gerard’s arm, knocking his cigarette out of his hand. “I’m going to teach music composition and theory. I know, I look like I’m twelve.”

 

“It’s because he’s so short,” Gerard said quickly, ducking to avoid the empty beer can Frank had hurtled in his direction. “I ain’t picking that up.”

 

“Well, that’s cool.” I said after I had finished laughing at the spectacle. Frank muttered something about getting another beer and shuffled back inside, leaving Gerard and me by the fire outside.

 

“This isn’t too awkward for you, is it?” He asked quietly, suddenly serious. I smiled and shook me head.

 

“No, it’s nice to do something instead of being holed up inside my apartment. It’s basically all I’ve been doing since the breakup,” I said before realizing I was complaining about my life to my professor. Whoops. Gerard looked concerned, setting his beer down before leaning forward in his chair.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you doing okay?” He asked. I was about to reply but Frank had reentered the patio, three beers in his arms.

 

“Here’s an extra thank you for helping me move some of my shit today,” Frank said as he pushed a can in my direction. I was barely halfway done with my first one, but I took it anyway.

 

“Damn, you guys need to wait for me to catch up with my drinks,” I joked. Gerard comically rolled his eyes.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry Charlotte, I didn’t realize you were a fucking lightweight,” Frank said with faux bitterness. I liked him, I decided. He made me feel like we had been friends for years when this was really the first time I had ever met him in my life. He had a way of putting me at ease, which was an amazing feat in itself. 

 

“I’m actually a huge heavyweight. Give me three bottles of wine and I’ll start to feel it, maybe,” I said nonchalantly, despite the grin on my face. Frank formed an O with his mouth, shaking his head in sarcastic disbelief.

 

“Oh really? Well it just so happens that I have three bottles of wine in my nearly packed up kitchen!” Frank jumped to his feet but Gerard grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back down into his seat.

 

“No, we don’t need to turn this into a dick measuring contest, Frank,” he said, locking eyes with me before quickly shaking his head with a warning glance.

 

“Come on, it’s not like it’s a school night, Mr. Way,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him. It was hard to tell in the low light of the setting sun and the flickering of the fire pit, but I swear I watched his cheeks slowly burn.

 

Frank took his cue and went into the kitchen again. Gerard sat there, glowering at me. “Have you eaten enough today?”

 

I cocked my head to the side. “Kind of. Why?” 

 

“I just don’t want you to get sick. You just seem like you don’t remember to eat lunch,” he admitted. I choked out a small laugh.

 

“You wouldn’t be _wrong_.”

 

Frank came back outside with three wine glasses and three bottles of wine, tucked under his arm. “Alright, bitches, let’s get this going. What sort of drinking games do college kids play these days? Truth or dare? Nah, there’s too few of us,” he chuckled to himself as he poured me a full glass.  When he offered one to Gerard, Gerard simply pushed it back.

 

“I’m done for tonight, thanks Frankie,” he stood up, stretching his legs and lighting another cigarette. Frank turned back to me. 

 

“Guess it’s just you and me, kid. Let’s do this!” We clinked glasses together.

  
“Animals,” Gerard muttered with the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.


	6. Spilled Beans and Coffee Beans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the chapters have been kind of boring lately, I'm setting up for other plot points!

I felt like a bobblehead. Or a set of hi-hat cymbals. Or the inside of a bass drum. I was lying facedown on my couch still in my clothes from the night before with a massive migraine. Water. My first thought. I slowly sat up, a glass of water on the coffee table coming into focus. There was a small post-it stuck to it.

 

**Drove you home last night, your truck is at Frank’s. Drink some water and I will give you a ride to his place when you’re ready.**

 

I recognized Gerard’s scrawling handwriting immediately. My heart warmed a little at the thought that somebody cared enough to make sure I got home safely and left me a glass of water, which I promptly drained. I turned some music on and began to wash up, changing into some clean clothes and fixing my makeup. It was already one in the afternoon.

 

**To Gerard - 1:17 PM**

**Wow, thanks for driving me home. I’m beat.**

 

I felt stupid for having drunk so much the night before, but Frank just had a contagious excitement about him that had intoxicated me. Gerard texted me back almost immediately.

 

**From Gerard - 1:18 PM**

**Of course. Just let me know when you want to get your truck, we’re finishing up packing.**

 

As I was eating toast, I reflected on how I should probably ride my bike over there. After all that alcohol, I could use both the fresh air and the exercise. But fuck it, I was tired.

 

**To Gerard - 1:20 PM**

**Whenever you want to take a break, just cleaning myself up**

 

**From Gerard - 1:21 PM**

**I’ll head over within the hour.**

 

I was sitting on the curb outside of my apartment complex, letting the sun warm me up. A few cigarettes later, and Gerard pulled up in a black Porsche. He rolled the passenger window down.

“Chainsmoke much?” He asked with a smile. I tossed the smoldering butt into the gutter as I gave him a slow nod before climbing in the car.

“Only on Wednesdays,” I answered before he sped back off to Frank’s house.

“So, how was your night?” Gerard asked through his grin. I pushed my sunglasses further up my nose.

“How do you fucking think my night was? Don’t remember a lot of it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“We missed you at breakfast this morning. Frank tried to make pancakes; keyword is tried,” he snorted. 

“I was fast asleep, I think my stomach missed breakfast though,” I said as it grumbled at the thought of food.

“We have some leftovers. We’re almost completely done. We filled your truck bed all the way up, so we’ll need to dump it off first before we can do too much more.”

“No problem. I’m feeling better after having some Excedrin,” I said. He nodded, pulling up to the curb outside Frank’s house. The rest of the day was filled with more shenanigans while helping Frank move. His apartment was on the floor above mine, so fitting everything into the elevator and going continuously up and down was so much fun. Gerard and I were sitting on the last two boxes in the front yard when Frank got a call from the university about his upcoming classes.

“Thanks again for helping us out. Especially since nobody we know owns a truck,” Gerard said, blowing smoke into the air. 

“No, thanks for letting me. I’ve had fun the past two days. Feels like I have friends again,” I joked, glancing over at him. He was running a hand through his hair nervously. “What’s up?”   
  
He hesitated greatly before answering me, shifting on the box so he was completely facing me. “I know this is going to sound weird, but just hear me out. I worry about you. You say depressing stuff like that a lot and I’m more than happy to let you talk to me about your problems, that’s not the point. I just wish there was something I could do for you. That’s part of the reason why I kept inviting you to breakfast and tried to get you to come over here.”

I was a bit taken aback, my cigarette paused in the air between my lips and my arm. “Oh. ‘Part’ of the reason?” I was getting stupidly hopeful. He just looked up at the heavens as if he was gaining courage from an otherworldy power.

“Yes, part. You’re a cool girl and I like hanging out with you. That was the other part. And I really don’t want you to be alone over a holiday. It makes me sad,” he said honestly, nudging the dirt in the yard with his boot toe.

“Well, thanks,” I said awkwardly. “I appreciate it. I like being around you too, now that I know you don’t hate me.” He perked up, looking at me again.

“You thought I hated you?” Gerard asked, his eyes widening.

“Are you serious? I thought you despised me! And even now, you’re probably just making sure I don’t blackmail you with the fact that you dance around in your class when students are here,” I smirked. He had to let a little chuckle escape at that.

“I thought you hated me. I really liked your art and thought you were pretty and I guess that’s it. I’m not worried you’re going to blackmail me, because you probably would have done it already,” Gerard said confidently.

“You’re right. You’re also lucky that I’m incredibly lazy.” There was a long pause in which we both said nothing. “You like my art?”   
  
“Hell yes I do. I know you might concentrate in photography but your illustration skills are damn spot on, Charlotte. Like, really.”

“Coming from you, someone who made me look beautiful sitting on a drainage pipe, that means a lot.”   
  
“But you did look beautiful.”

I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that, so I let my red cheeks do the talking. Gerard fiddled with the zipper on his jacket, not looking up at me after he said that.

“The drainage pipe also looked beautiful that day, so I figured I would kill two birds with one stone and draw you both,” he added hastily. I laughed, stomping on my cigarette.

“You’re funny. In a weird way I’m glad that Hawthorn left the university, as much as I loved her. You’re a very close second,” I said. Now it was his turn to laugh.

“What are you crazy kids talking about out here?” Frank interjected, walking up to us.

“Frank, I’m older than you,” Gerard stated flatly. Frank just leaned on his shoulder, ruffling his hair with his other hand.

“Check this kid out. Thinks he’s smarter than me.” Gerard shoved Frank off with a laugh. “So Charlotte, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Ah, nothing really. I’ll probably...I don’t really know. I have no idea. I can’t believe it’s tomorrow, I’ve sort of lost track of this semester,” I admitted. Frank giggled.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to hang out with me and this loser. We have a tradition of going to Denny’s when our families aren’t around.” Gerard glared at Frank.

“It’s honestly the worst tradition I’ve ever been a part of,” Gerard said. “But it’s also the best.”

“So you should really come with us,” Frank interjected. I shrugged.

“Sure. Not like I’ll be doing anything else.”

Thursday came and went like any other day, really. Frank ordered the smiley face pancakes while Gerard and I, like the respecting adults we were, just had plain short stacks. It was one of the best holidays I had had in such a long time. There were moments when tears were forming in the corners of my eyes from how hard Frank had me laughing.

Before I knew it, it was Friday evening and I was feverishly turning my closet inside out to try and find something to wear to Gerard’s gallery opening. I finally decided on a plain black maxi dress and green sweater, hiding my combat boots underneath. It was my way of adding a few inches without having to wear heels so my dress didn’t drag on the ground.

The brewery was packed. Gerard valet parked his car, which was the norm downtown, and offered me his arm as we walked inside. It was a high ceiling loft style room with light wood floors and cork walls, normally covered with drawings that coffee goers penned while sipping espresso. But now, they had some permanent installations peppered throughout the cork.

Before we had pulled up, Gerard had asked me to please not hate him when we got inside, and I was racking my mind to try and figure out why. It all became clear to me when we walked up the stairs to the loft. There was a poster sized pastel drawing of me hanging on the wall.

It was beautiful. I couldn’t even begin to believe that it was actually me. Chocolate flecks in my cerulean irises, smudged eyeliner from the previous day’s alcohol intake, a small smattering of freckles below my eyes, all topped off with my mahogany bob, curling around the bottoms of my ear lobes. I looked like I had lightning in my eyes and a secret on the tip of my tongue. I dropped Gerard’s arm as I took it all in.

“This is amazing,” I told him. His eyes were flickering in between me and the drawing, trying to gauge my reaction I presumed. He let out a deep breath.

“That’s good that you think that. I was worried you would find it creepy,” he admitted.

“Oh, well I do, but I really like it,” I said, winking at him. His cheeks turned red as he jammed his hands into his pant pockets, and I left him there as I went around the top of the loft, looking at all of his charcoal and oil pastel pieces. They were superb, and to think that he liked my art style. I was incredulous at that.

It was one of the best nights of my life. I was so glad that I had decided to stay for Thanksgiving rather than go home to my dysfunctional yet somehow still intact family. I hung off Gerard’s arm all night, my face smoldering when people asked him time and time again if we were dating. Always the same reply every time;  _ No, we’re just friends _ . We even got to do a taste testing of a bunch of fancy coffees that I had never heard of before.

We were waiting outside for his car with his jacket draped around my shivering shoulders. He stood stoic next to me, arms crossed over his waistcoat. I loved how he always wore waistcoats.

“I had so much fun tonight,” I stuttered in between shakes, “thank you so much for inviting me.”

“No, thank you so much for not only coming but being the subject for too many of my pieces,” he smirked, glancing over at me under his black hair. I giggled, wondering how many other drawings he had done of me. I didn’t care if we were barely friends and if that should be creepy, because I was incredibly flattered. The crowd that was lingering outside the coffee shop was slowly dispersing, one by one, couple by couple.

I was leaning down to get into Gerard’s car, scanning the crowd, when I locked eyes with someone in there. Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Strong jaw. Curls. Frowning. 

  
Leave it to Anthony to show up and ruin my night.


	7. Chapter 7

The ride back to my apartment was a tense one. Gerard knew something was wrong, but I was hesitant to bring it up lest I turn into a blubbering, traumatized mess. I didn't want to shove my problems off on him. Really, I was afraid he would get annoyed with my baggage and stop talking to me.

We were about halfway back when he turned the radio off. "Maybe if I make it silent enough, you'll feel uncomfortable enough to tell me what's wrong. Are you freaked out about me drawing you? Because I'm starting to feel really bad for that, like a creep-"

"It's nothing to do with you. I just saw somebody tonight I wish I hadn't," I said, trying to keep it simple.

"Was it your ex?" He asked, eyes still on the road.

"Yes," I sighed. Gerard nodded quickly.

"I know that feeling. Sorry about that, I hope it didn't ruin your night."  
"It didn't! I still had so much fun. Really. I just recently stopped talking to him and he scares me," I admitted. Gerard frowned, one corner of his mouth turning down.

"Why does he scare you?"

"He has anger problems and didn't exactly, ah, take it well the other day when I broke it off with him again," I explained, wringing my hands. I felt so awkward.

"Again?" Gerard's eyebrows were raised as he glanced over at me quickly.

"Yeah," I said sheepishly. "I've lost count of how many times we've broken up. It's just a mess all around, take my word for it."

"Juicy," he exhaled. "Well, count me intrigued. You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to-"

"Gerard, it was the worst God-awful experience of my life. I was constantly afraid I was doing everything wrong, and that he was going to leave me. I stopped talking to almost of my friends. He isolated me. I don't know if he meant to do it, but I was so alone after we broke up, or rather when he dumped me. I can't even remember...eight times? I thought I was dying for months. And when I finally started to grow into my own person and feel a shadow of happiness he would show up with flowers on my doorstep and begin to tear down every new good thing I had built around myself." Tears were streaming down my face in a constant flow and my chest was heaving, something I hadn't realized while I was ranting. I guess talking without breathing does that to you. "I'm sorry."

"Don't fucking apologize because you feel things. No human should ever make you feel like you need to build walls around yourself to stay safe. People that you fight to keep in your life should only want good things to come to you. Good people will be your walls for you, not a battering ram. He sounds like a complete fuck up. I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said, softly at the end. His knuckles were white from his grip on the steering wheel and I realized I might not have chosen an opportune time to pour out the biggest stressor in my life.

"That's just been why I'm a wreck lately. I didn't used to be like this. I used to be happy, I didn't drink or smoke, I stayed up late because I wanted to finish working on things, not because I couldn't physically sleep because my mind wouldn't turn off. I used to be confident and positive and now I'm just-like fucking hell, listen to me complain, I'm miserable!" I found myself yelling. The car had since slowed to a stop outside my apartment building. Gerard parked the car, opening my door for me. I didn't want to come out; I wanted to shrink up and be absorbed into the leather seat and pretend I hadn't just been hysterical moments before.

"Come on, let's get you out of that dress," he said, suddenly blanching, "and into pajamas, I meant into pajamas, into something comfortable, oh my god." He threw his head back and sighed as he hooked his arm in mine, walking into the lobby and calling the elevator. I couldn't help but break a smile at that.

"God, you say that like it's a bad thing," I said quietly. I stole a glance at him from the corner of my eye, the usual red blush covering his cheeks. I wiped a few straggling tears off my own as we ascended up to my floor. We could hear music booming from Frank's apartment from the level beneath me.

"That's not how I meant it and you know it," Gerard said lowly as I handed him over my keys, letting him unlock the door. "Take a seat, I'll make you some...tea?" His voice trailed upwards as he looked around the mess of my kitchen.

"I haven't had the time to do dishes the past few days, since I've been hanging out with you and Frank so much," I shrugged, slipping out of my boots and jacket. I wasn't entirely sure what Gerard was doing, but whatever it was, he was trying his best.

"You know what, we're just going to have nice fancy glasses of water since I can't find your tea," he announced, "I think we've both had enough to drink the past few days." I nodded in agreement, grimacing.

"You could say that." He sat down next to me on the couch, handing me the glass of water. "I'm sorry my apartment's so tiny; I just only ever needed a studio. It's not exactly perfect for entertaining guests, or whatever." I was suddenly incredibly self conscious.

"Don't worry about it. I mostly just wanted to make sure you got back home safely, didn't want to drop you off and just leave without seeing that you were good to go," Gerard admitted. "Your apartment looks like a palace compared to Frank's right now, let me tell you."

I laughed. "I can only imagine." I sipped my water quietly before Gerard spoke again.

"Do you want to talk about it more?" He asked tentatively.

"The more I talk about it, the more worked up I'll get. It was just a shit show that is always on my mind, and I just can never shut it off. Sleeping is a nightmare," I added.

"Do you take meds? I mean, if that's not too rude to ask. I don't care if you don't want to answer-"  
"You're fine. I just use over the counter stuff. I haven't been on meds for a long time. That's another story, though," I said. Gerard just nodded silently next to me.

"Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me. Also our campus has free counseling if you wanted to try that."

It was my turn to nod silently. I was having a hard time processing somebody being this...attentive to my problems? I wasn't even sure where to begin. Wasn't I crossing some sort of line with Gerard being my professor? He was another consenting adult. It shouldn't matter that he was my teacher.

"Gerard, I-" I began to thank him when he cut me off, reached out to my face before cradling it between his two hands and closed the space between us with a kiss. I was caught completely off guard, but I would be lying if I said I hadn't hoped the night would end up somewhere along these lines. That whole time at the coffee brewery with me draped over his arm, breathing in his cologne and sweet muskiness.

Any doubt melted away in my mind as the kiss deepened with passion. Gerard's hands were soon cupping the back of my hand, tipping it back as he shifted on the couch. I ran my hands through his thick black hair, moaning softly into his mouth. I let go of his hair, sliding my hands down his neck to grab the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to me. He broke the make out session, leaning back on his haunches as he started to take his jacket off. He slowly began to frown, freezing with his jacket half on.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my heart threatening to beat straight out of my chest.

"Wow, I really shouldn't be doing this." Gerard stood up off the couch, shrugging into his jacket again. He held out his hand to help me sit up.  
"What are you talking about?! Why?" I snapped. I felt like I was whining, but my feelings were hurt. What had I done wrong?"No, this is an abuse of my power. I told myself I wouldn't do this, but you were just sitting there, and you looked so pretty, and I like you so much and I wanted to kiss you all night what with everybody asking if we were dating...it's not like I could say you were my student, because that makes me look so-"

"Gerard," I snapped, cutting him off. "Stop. It's fine. You're not abusing your authority. If you were, you would tell me you wouldn't pass me if I didn't hook up with you. You're a really good guy, and I like you a lot, too. Please." I stood up, grabbing both of his hands. "You've helped me so much this past week."

"Saying I'm a 'good guy' is a bit of a stretch, but I appreciate it. I think I'm going to head out now, though. Thank you so much for coming tonight, again," he said, slowly wriggling out of my hands as he headed towards the door. He let himself out into the hallway as I leaned against the door frame. "I'm really sorry for...kissing you."

"It's okay. If it makes any difference, I enjoyed it a lot. I hope you did too," I said softly, trailing off at the end. Gerard's expression softened and he gave me a small smile.

"Of course I did. Goodnight, Charlotte," he said. I leaned through the door and kissed his cheek before I watched him shove his hands in his coat pocket and walk down the hall into the elevator. He gave me one last peek over his shoulder and a shy smile before the doors closed.

I closed my own apartment door, leaning against it on the inside. Those few minutes of making out had been pure bliss for me. His lips were so soft and he tasted like vanilla and a hint of smoke. I should have asked him to stay. But it was too late for that now.

I heard the unmistakable rumble of his car as he drove away from the building. I was feeling like shit. This night had been a whirlwind of ups and downs and I was exhausted. I didn't even know which direction was up anymore.

I began to pour myself another glass of wine before I remembered the six pack I had in the refrigerator. I recorked the bottle and hatched a plan. With the six pack under my arm, I climbed up a flight of stairs before I got to Frank's apartment, rapping hardly on the door. I could still hear music from the inside, so I rang the doorbell a few times for good measure.  
A few seconds later, Frank poked his head out of the door, smiling when he recognized me. "Hey Charlie, what's happening? Come in," he stepped back and opened the door for me to come inside. I squeezed by, setting the beer down loudly on his kitchen counter.

"Consider it a housewarming gift," I said, handing him one. "I was going to be sitting in my apartment drinking about my problems alone, so I figured I would come and drink about my problems with you." I popped the cap off of my beer.

"Good! Drinking about problems is in no way a slippery slope that leads to anything bad!" Frank shot me a look. "Which means, of course I'll drink with you. What happened? I thought tonight you and Gerard went to that show of his."

"We did and I saw a scary ex-boyfriend of mine which freaked me out and then…" I wasn't sure if Gerard would want me divulging this to Frank, but I was at wits' end when it came to dealing with Gerard. I had all sorts of feelings for him and practically nobody to talk to about it. "And then Gerard kissed me."

Frank slammed his hand down on the countertop, letting out a long "Woot!" He trailed off when he saw my forlorn expression. "Or, shit?"

"Frank I like him!" I blurted out. "But he doesn't like me. And he got all weird about it. And I don't know what to do." Frank sighed, motioning to the bottle in my hand.

"Sounds like you need more beer," he joked dejectedly. "Look, I don't think Gerard doesn't like you...if that makes sense. Gerard is-difficult. We've been friends since high school and I still haven't figured him out. He's got some problems. So if he's distancing you, I would just go with it for now. Then again, I am a firm believer in 'if it's meant to be, it will be', so take from that what you will."

"You're right. I am going to need more beer."


	8. Chapter 8

Gerard didn't call or text me at all within the last few days of break. Saturday came and went in an anxious blur; I took so many sleeping pills to help me calm down so I was in a zombie-like haze. It was nice to have a day of staying in and watching Netflix instead of getting drunk with Frank and Gerard, though I would have jumped at the chance to do so if there had been one.

I spent most of Sunday getting things ready for class again, heavily dreading Gerard's class the next morning. It was going to be so awkward. I definitely did not want to be the one to text him first and break the silence. I didn't want to look weak. I had always been the weak one when I had been dating Anthony and...even though I wished I was dating Gerard, I wasn't, and this was different. Hey, it was a big step for me to even admit that I wished I was dating him.

Couldn't remember the last time someone other than Anthony had made me feel something like this. Maybe it was a sign of healing and moving on, finally, after five years of horror. Jessica got back into town and invited me over to have a girls' night, but I had to decline. I wasn't in the mood for talking to other people right now. I especially wasn't in the mood to deal with Jessica asking me what I had been doing all break, because I knew she would get carried away if I responded truthfully.

After hanging out with Frank Friday night, my mind was more at ease than it would have been if I had avoided thinking or talking about Gerard with someone. Frank had divulged Gerard did talk about me, and not in a bad way; in a way that Frank assumed he had a thing for me. I was beginning to assume he had just gotten carried away with loneliness and alcohol.

Frank shot me a text Sunday night.

**From FRANK, 7:49 PM  
Hey, how you holding up?**

**To FRANK, 7:50 PM**   
**Meh. Nervous about teaching tomorrow?**

**From FRANK, 7:51 PM**   
**Never! Let me know if you need anything.**

I needed to change his name from the obnoxious capitals to lowercase. He had insisted on putting it in my phone like that, so I would know it was him and not just any other Frank. Because, you know, Frank Iero is always shouting. Gerard says it's because he's short. Frank agrees.

As the night wore on, I wondered if any bar would be open late enough on a Sunday night. I didn't feel like cooking and definitely did not feel like going to the liquor store nearby. I wanted a drink premade and handed over to me with a burger and fries. Or wings. I could definitely go for some wings.

I walked the few blocks to one of the renowned dive bars of the area, O'Flannigan's. Sure, it was just a bar with a pub name, but I liked to pretend I was in an Irish pub and not right down the street from the hell hole of my university. It was surprisingly busy on a Sunday, and I realized that's because it was couples karaoke night. My stomach turned; I'd always loved the concept of 'couples' activities before I dated Anthony, but he always thought they were stupid.

The girl at the mic on the small stage had blonde hair in ringlets and chocolate eyes. She was wearing something akin to what a cowgirl would wear after she'd been torn up by a loose steer. The longer I stared at her, the weirder she seemed to me. I could have sworn I'd met her before, but I could not for the life of me figure out where in the hell I had seen her. She was probably just another student. Maybe she lived in my freshman dorm.

A few guys tried to hit on me, which was always an ego boost, but tonight I was definitely not feeling it. I only let one of them buy me a drink because he seemed nice. He was nerdy, with thick rimmed glasses and suspenders, but I had the feeling he was going for a more hipster vibe. We talked about our favorite video games, and it was refreshing. He seemed to forget he was trying to get into my pants and maybe he actually viewed me as a person for a few seconds.

That is, until someone shouldered up to him and told him to beat it. My heart froze in my chest. I wasn't sure who I had been expecting, but it definitely wasn't him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Anthony asked lowly. I was internally screaming, (what's new), but swallowed my feelings down with a mouthful of beer.

"What the fuck are _you_ doing here?" I spat back. Not my finest comeback, I would admit that. He inched closer at me, probably to threaten me, but the sound of breaking glass caused us both to jump. There she was, in all her tube topped, denim mini-skirted glory, Blonde Cowgirl Karaoke Singer.

"Are you the skank that hit on my boyfriend and tricked him into sleeping with you?" She shrieked at me, her drink now in pieces on the floor. "You bitch!" I only had a moment to realize she was lunging for me, and at that point it was too late to duck. She brought me to the floor where she landed on me with a sickening thud. My shoulder was pressed into the fragments of glass she had just dropped on the ground.

"Holy shit, get off me, I don't even know who you are!" I screamed, muffled under her. She was trying to hit me, but mostly succeeded in slapping me and pulling my hair. After about half a minute of this, a group of guys successfully pulled her off of me screaming.

"Of course you don't know who I am, you _hussy_!" She spat at me. "I'm dating Anthony!"

From my sitting position on the floor, I almost just laid back down into the glass. Anything to not have to deal with this shitshow. But instead, I sighed, watching the blood drip down the side of my face into a neat little pool between my splayed legs. So Anthony had cheated on her with me. That made me feel...great. Fantastic. Valued. Definitely not cheap.

I finally got to my feet after somebody gave me a helping hand-I was pretty sure it had been the nerd I was talking to earlier, but I wasn't paying too much attention-and I wandered out the back door to the smoking alley. I just needed to feel the cold air. The breeze was like needles poking into my skin and I could still feel warmth dripping down my head, face, and arms. I had ripped up one of my favorite flannel shirts.

"Fuck!" I hissed, taking it off of me painfully and leaving me in a black camisole; the blood was beginning to congeal into it, causing more wounds to reopen. I balled up my shirt and pressed it on the deepest cut on my bicep. I figured since it was already ruined beyond repair, I might as well put it to good use.

"Were you one of those chicks in the fight in there?" Some guy walked up to me, flicking his cigarette into the dumpster.

"No, I just walk into bars and start bleeding everywhere," I cut at him sarcastically.

"Bitch," he said, spitting on the ground before walking away. I would walk home in a few minutes; right now, though, I needed to take a breather. I sunk to the ground against the back of the bar wall, sitting on my heels. _Just take a few seconds_ , I told myself. _Just breathe. Clean up when you get home._

The back of the bar opened again and someone swore under their breath when they saw me. I'm sure I was a sight to behold; blood was streaming from my hairline down the sides of my face and everywhere else, for that matter. I ignored them, staring down at the gravel between my knees. "Charlotte, what the fuck happened?" I recognized that voice. My cheeks grew hot, but not because of the blood on the outside.

"Oh my god, don't look at me," I begged Gerard. He crouched down, picking some small chips of glass out of my short hair.

"Yeah, let me just not look at you and leave you here, bleeding behind a bar," he said as he slipped his cigarettes back into his jacket pocket. He had been stepping out here for a smoke. Not to find the mangled body of one of his students he had drunkenly made out with in a moment of regret.

_Maybe I was bitter._

"I'm not going to bleed to death, I'm fine. Somebody just got mad," I explained, trying to smile. I coughed up blood instead. _Close enough._

"Come on. We're not far from my place. Let's go." He hooked an arm under mine, hauling me to my feet. "I walked here, but we're getting a cab." A wave of relief washed over me. I really was in a lot of pain. That bitch had been heavy. The cabbie regarded us with wide eyes after we were dropped off outside of another apartment complex. Gerard had tipped him a lot, probably because I bled all over the leather interior. Most of it had wiped off.

His apartment building was nice. There was an armed security guard in the lobby who held the door open for us. Gerard silenced him by putting his hand up, "she's fine, just got in a biking accident. Thank you." At least Gerard was quick with his words today. I wasn't quick with my words or movements.

He lived on the sixteenth floor in a two bedroom apartment. One he used as his studio, the other was a plain old bedroom. The scent of incense permeated the entire apartment, even spreading out into the hallway. The walls were a deep red, and most of the furniture was black. It put my apartment to shame. He guided me to a seat at his dining room table.

"I think I'm dying," I spat, the blood running down the side of my head, pooling in my mouth. I cupped my hands under my chin to catch the overflow. I thought I was going to throw up.

"What the hell did you do, eat glass?" He hissed, but his concern was apparent. His eyes were wide but his hands moved expertly, as if he had dealt with something like this before. Gerard held a bucket under my face. "Spit," he instructed. Red splashed against the clean white plastic, making more bile churn in my stomach. I fought it back. He shoved gauze in my mouth, his eyes sparkling, clearly amused at my lacking of the ability to speak.

We were just sitting at his dining room table, staring each other down. Every now and then the corner of his mouth would twitch downwards in concern and he would readjust the gauze he had in and around my mouth, but mostly he just stared at me. I was sure I was a real spectacle; my shirt was ripped, my makeup and mascara had to be staining my cheeks by now, and I was sure my hair was a ratted mess.

After what seemed like hours but was in reality a few short minutes, Gerard pried my mouth open again, cleaning all of the gauze out with his fingers. I tried not to think about my art professor swirling his fingers around inside my mouth with some sort of angry fire in his eyes. I definitely was not thinking about that longer than I needed to. He dumped the bloody gauze into the formerly white trash can sitting on the ground before he began moving around the kitchen, mixing something in a glass.

He sat back down next to me, pushing the glass in my direction. "You're going to swish that around in your mouth then spit it back in there. Don't swallow it, because it'll probably kill you." I picked up the glass and did what he said, my insides churning at the way he was telling me to do things. Shut up. "While you are being the most obedient you've ever been regarding things I've told you to do, you might as well tell me what got you into this mess. After," he added, holding a finger up in the air, "you finish this anti bacterial swill to make sure you don't get an infection."

I spit the now bloody mixture into the glass. "Done. I got in a fight with someone. They were being shitty. Punches were thrown. Everybody was a little drunk. It's not like you can say that's never happened to you before," I said. My words were a little slurred; it felt like my jaw was slightly out of place. Everything about me just felt slightly off; I was glitching.

"Can I go home now? I don't think it's exactly professional for a professor to be cleaning their student's wounds at two in the morning. I just want to sleep," I groaned, attempting to stretch but hitching when I felt two ribs grinding together. I squeaked, lurching forward to lean on the dinner table as I curled my arms around my torso. "Just let me sleep." I couldn't help but notice how much colder he was being. It just confirmed my suspicions about how much he did actually regret kissing me.

"What's not professional is leaving someone in a bloody mess behind a closed bar. I'm just trying to be a decent human being." Gerard rose to his feet, dumping the glass of bloody chemicals down the kitchen sink. He then poured himself a cup of coffee I hadn't noticed brewing.

"Why on Earth are you pouring coffee this late? Or early? It's almost half past two. You need to go to sleep, you have classes to teach tomorrow-"

"And you have classes to attend tomorrow. Tell me, Charlie, which one of us was out getting in fights in bars tonight on a school night?" Gerard narrowed his eyes at me over his smoldering coffee. _Charlie. He called me Charlie._  
  
"May I remind you that you were also out in bars on a school night? Maybe you weren't getting in fights but I can hardly say we had different plans for the night; go out to a bar, get drunk enough so somebody there looks halfway decent enough to go home with, and sneak out before lecture at eight in the morning," I said into the coffee table. "Maybe you just didn't happen to run into an ex-boyfriend but that's not your fault, Mr. Way."

A startling crash on the tile kitchen floor jerked me upright, ready to sprint from this fucking place. But all I saw was a wide eyed Gerard, one hand clutching the countertop to steady himself, the other one curled into a fist where his coffee had been a moment ago. He was bent slightly at the waist, so his long, unkempt hair was shrouding his face.

I scooted the chair back, slowly rising to my feet. "I really appreciate you fixing me up, Mr. Way. I should really get back to my apartment now though, and shower so I can...so I can sleep before I need to get up for lecture tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow though. Right?" I began to back towards the door.

"So that's who did this to you? A jilted ex-lover? How poetic. How disgusting. I can't believe this," he kneeled down and began picking the pieces of his mug up off the kitchen floor. I realized I should help him before fleeing into the night and grabbed a chunk of paper towels to soak up the rest of the coffee. "Was it the same guy from a few days ago?"

I couldn't really speak right now, so I just nodded. He sighed, running another coffee stained hand through his hair before rising back up to his feet. "And on the last day of Thanksgiving break, nonetheless. Happy fucking holidays, huh?" I wasn't sure who he was talking to, if anybody in particular. I felt another warm sensation on the side of my head, touching a finger to it. It came back red. "Charlotte, we really should get you to a hospital to see if you need stitches. I have the sinking feeling that you wouldn't be comfortable with that."

I threw my head back with a sigh, wincing immediately at the pain that accompanied this movement. "I really don't want to. Can we just wait?"

"Until when? You said it yourself, it's already two in the morning, we have to be at campus in a few hours. I'd rather not have you die in my apartment," he added thoughtfully.

"I really appreciate that," I said sarcastically. "I don't want to see a doctor."

"It can't hurt! There's nothing wrong with being cautious-"

"I don't have fucking medical insurance, Gerard. I can't afford it, okay?" I snapped, regretting my tone when I saw his expression soften. "I'm sorry."

"Instead of telling you how that's technically illegal, especially since you're a college student, I'm going to give you an ultimatum; you either let me take you to the hospital, or you stay here and stay up with me tonight so we can make sure you're not concussed," he said calmly. I raised my eyebrows.

"Can we watch movies?" I asked, a small grin creeping up on my lips. I watched as he rolled his eyes comically, shoulders slumping in a fake sigh.

"I guess. It's not like I have papers to grade or anything," he smirked. "Let me grab some clothes for you. They're, uh, going to be rather big but I don't want you in...those," he gestured vaguely to my body. I had to stifle a laugh.

I nodded in agreement. We had since thrown out my formerly favorite flannel. It was now sitting at the bottom of a bloody trash can. He came back with some sweats.

"They're the smallest I could find. The bathrooms right over there, and if you want to shower, which I'm not pressuring you to do but you are literally covered in blood, feel free." I gave him a thumbs up. "Towels are under the sink," he said quickly before I closed the door behind me. I checked out my reflection in the mirror, biting back a shriek. A shower was definitely in order.

After I took the bloodiest shower yet in my life, I chose a dark towel so I wouldn't stain anything. The pajamas he had lent me were so warm and cozy; I felt like I was swaddled in clouds.

"Now remember, no falling asleep," he said before turning the television on and pulling a stack of papers into his lap. He had been sure to sit on the loveseat. I was on the couch on the right.

"How do you expect me to stay awake watching CNN?" I joked. He tossed the remote in my direction.

"Go crazy, kid."

My heart did weird things when he called me that.


	9. Chapter 9

Classes resumed as normal the next day. I slept in Gerard’s bed while he slept on the couch, and no matter how much I insisted he sleep in his own bed and I take the couch, he wouldn’t budge. After he concluded I could hold a coherent conversation and seemed okay, he let me fall asleep. I wasn’t actually sure if he had slept or not because he was already awake when I got up in the morning. I had already done my makeup as best as I could with the powder and mascara I had tucked away in my purse. My hair was a tangled mess, but I found hair wax in his bathroom and tossed some into my rat nest.

“Are you wearing my hair gel?” He asked when I walked past. I grimaced.

“My hair looked like a nightmare! It was out on the counter, I swear,” I said. Gerard just smiled and rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine. We need to roll, we’re already a little late. And you still need to stop by your house and get a change of clothes”

 

* * *

 

 

I wasn’t proud to show up to school with bruises and cuts all over my face. But I did. Jessica let out a small squeal when she say me, slowly turning into a sound of horror.

“What the hell happened to you?” She asked, outraged.

“I got in a barfight. I know, I know,” I began when she started to form a stern look on her face, “it was a misunderstanding. It’s all cool. Gerard actually ran into me and helped me get home.”

Jessica raised one eyebrow at this. “Oh really?” Except she said it as a fact, not a question.

“Not like that, Jess, how many times do I need to tell you?” But I couldn’t stop a small smile from breaking out on my lips.

“OH MY GOD, Charlotte! I can’t believe you slept with our professor!” She shrieked, grabbing my shirt and jumping up and down. “He’s so hot.”

“OH MY GOD, Jessica!” I grabbed her own shirt, mimicking her. “Nothing fucking happened. God.”

“Well that’s disappointing.”

“Not for lack of trying though,” I added quickly. She giggled and rolled her eyes.

“Keep at it, champ.”

We sat in Gerard’s class, pretending nothing had happened. He locked eyes with me a few times, and each time my face grew hot and I had to look away. This was torturous. It was just a lecture about composition and how it can make or break a piece, no matter how talented you were. If you didn’t compose it correctly, it would become a swirling mess of colors and misdirected attention.

My phone vibrated in my jacket pocket, and I glanced up at Gerard to make sure his attention was directed elsewhere before I checked it under our table.

**From FRANK - 9:37 AM**   
**Heard from a birdie that you stayed at Gerard’s last night ;) ;) ;)**

There was a burning feeling of embarrassment searing a hole in my chest. If only he knew...if only he knew. I decided to wait until lunch to text him back. As if I needed more a reason for Gerard to pick on me in class. He didn’t need to catch me texting his best friend.

**From FRANK - 9:48 AM**   
**Oh, come on, Payn, spill the deets!**

**From FRANK - 9:49 AM**   
**Or I’ll ask him**

Only ten minutes left in class. It could wait. He was just being hyperactive. Gerard was introducing our new assignment when a loud buzzzzzz came from his desk in the corner. His cellphone. My heart sunk. His eyes flicked down to the screen, then directly to me. I could only imagine what Frank had said to him. Here came the blushing cheeks, again.

**To FRANK - 9:52 AM**   
**CUT IT OUT**   
**I’m in his class right now**

**From FRANK - 9:53 AM**   
**PERFECT**

I groaned out loud, causing Jessica to elbow me in the ribs.

“So you have a week to do this. My office hours are on the board, if you feel the need to bug me outside of class. And that’s all, get outta here early,” Gerard said as he sat in his office chair, waving the class away. “Miss Payn, can I speak to you?”

I had almost snuck out of the room. Jessica, who was heading out of the door, gave me a wink over her shoulder before closing the door behind her. Now it was just Gerard and me in the room.

“What’s up?” I asked, my breathing constricted because of my frantic heartbeat.

“I got an interesting text from Frank a few minutes ago,” he said slowly, a smirk playing across his lips.

“Oh really? Because I did too,” I narrowed my eyes. Two could play this game. Gerard’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Shit. What did it say?” He gulped. I couldn’t help but throw my head back and laugh.

“I’m not telling you unless you tell me.” I crossed my arms, standing at the back of the classroom.

“Guess we’re in a stalemate,” he huffed.

“Guess we are.” I could stand there and stare at him all day. He had an adorably lopsided smile, and his hair was a tangled dark fluff on the top of his head. Perfectly arched eyebrows framed his molten chocolate eyes, everything tied together by a small pointed nose and the tiniest bit of scruff. He was wearing a white button up with a red tie and black striped waistcoat today. Why did he always have to look so good?

“Hello? Earth to Charlotte,” I hadn’t noticed him talking to me. “Looking is free, but touching costs ya extra.” I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself. How did Frank know that I stayed at your place last night?” I asked. Now it was his turn to color himself red.

“Oh, I...I told him, maybe?” Gerard stuttered nervously. “He’s convinced I’m gay! He’s been giving me unrelenting shit ever since I’ve started hanging out with you.”

“Oh God,” I smiled, trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry all I do is bring unrelenting shit into your life.”

“Yes, that is obviously the point I’m trying to get to,” Gerard rolled his eyes. “Frank is going to get a talking to.” He stood up, grabbing his briefcase. “And I’ve got a meeting.”

“See you later then!” I backed out of his class room after shooting him some finger guns. My heart rate was so high. I was going to die.

That was basically how the rest of that semester went. Every time I talked to him, there was just a burning hole in my chest. Frank and I had spent many nights talking about him and what I should do. I decided to just do nothing. If he was really worried about his professionalism, then I wasn’t going to jeopardize that. I tried to distance myself, but every now and then he would want to get breakfast on the weekend and who was I to say no to breakfast?

Christmas break came and went. I went home for a few weeks to my parents’ house, and it was so weird to be back. Winter in Los Angeles was nothing like I was used to up in Northern California. It was strangely warm, and I felt overdressed everywhere I went.

Hanging out with my family, I realized just how glad I was that I was still in school away from them. I loved them so much, don’t get me wrong. But they were suffocating. I felt bad for Jordin, my little brother, because he was the last child my parents’ had and they didn’t want him to leave the nest. I laughed on the inside with the way my mom’s eyes widened when he talked about his college options.

It was nice to be away from Gerard and maybe clear my head. Physical distance helped an immense amount when it came to emotionally distancing myself to figure out what I wanted and what I needed, and what I should do. Three entirely different things. I wanted Gerard in every way possible, but I needed to focus on my studies, and I should just stop talking to him outside of a professional setting.

Jordin and I were up late one night after New Year’s. We had rung in 2016 with a ton of champagne and shrimp. I had about a week left at home until I took a flight back up to NorCal, and we were sitting on our back porch looking out across the city from atop our hill. I was smoking a cigarette and looking the other way while he did so. He was only seventeen. He said he didn’t smoke a lot, and I told him he better stop or I’ll tell our parents.

It made me feel like a shit role model.

Somehow that night, the topic of Gerard came up. I told Jordin about how I had run into Anthony and he began to fume. Jordin absolutely hated Anthony, more than I’ve ever seen someone hate another human being in my life. I left out the story about the bar fight and focused more on Gerard.

“Sounds like you got yourself into a shit show,” he mused into the darkness.

“I know, Jordy, I know. What I don’t know is what to do,” I sighed.

“I don’t have any advice for you there. I haven’t exactly had any good relationships either. Sammy and I broke up almost two months ago and since then I haven’t had the desire to talk to anybody of the female persuasion ever again. Poison,” he spat onto the dirt in front of us.

“You’ll find someone again and that feeling will go away. Believe me. I never thought I’d feel anything for anyone after Anthony, but Gerard kind of...changed that,” I trailed off as I realized what I was saying.

“You sure you don’t know what to do?” Jordin asked. I knew what he was saying.

“I know what I want to do, but I can’t. Maybe after I graduate.”

“Maybe.”

The day before I left, my mom was acting strangely. She was asking me if I had considered going back to therapy, asking how I was feeling mentally, if I was keeping up on my meds. She normally avoided thinking about those things, let alone verbally addressing them, so this was incredibly out of the ordinary.

“I’m fine, mom. I just don’t sleep. Why?” I asked stiffly. I was packing up my duffel bag before getting ready to sleep and fly out the next morning. She was standing in my doorway wringing her hands.

“I just worry about you, Charly-bear. I just want you to be okay. It makes me nervous that I can’t be up there for you all the time.”

“Mom. I’ve been away for three years. If I’ve survived that, I can survive three more semesters.” I stood up, giving her a long hug. She stroked the back of my head, giving me a quick kiss before telling me goodnight.

My dad drove me to the airport the next morning since he was an early bird. He was reminiscing about all the other times he had dropped me off here and how it never got any easier, that he still missed me every time I went through security.

I couldn’t help but sit there in the passenger seat and wonder what on Earth was going on with my family. When we made it to the gate, he set all my luggage down and wrapped me into a long, tight hug.

“I love you so much, Charlie. You’ll always be my little girl,” he whispered quietly. Holy shit was he crying? My heart cracked, threatening to break.

“Is everything okay, dad?” I asked. He sighed, then nodded his head.

“Everything is fine. I just am going to miss you this semester. Call me if you ever need anything, okay? Anytime at all.” He gave me another kiss on the top of my head before letting me go, holding me at arms length. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks. I love you too, dad. Keep in touch.” I couldn’t help but give him another hug. There was something off, but I didn’t want to push it.

“I love you!” He shouted as I walked down the terminal. I looked over my shoulder, giving him a smile and a wave. He returned them before looking down, putting his baseball cap on, and heading back out the doors.

I was anxious the whole flight. I was so worried, but I didn’t know what there was to be worried about. The holidays had been so tense. Had I done something wrong? Did something happen? Was something _going_ to happen?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Excessive alcohol consumption, mentions/depictions of self harm, mentions of suicide. If this is too triggering for you, feel free to inbox me for a summary of the chapter.

I had to say I was surprised Gerard hadn’t texted me once during winter break. I had him for another Fundamentals of Art class during the spring semester, so I showed up on time the first day of term. I didn’t have a single class with Jessica this semester, which bummed me out.

But I supposed that was my fault for only having one close friend on the whole campus. I shot Frank a good luck on his first day text.

**From FRANK - 8:58 AM**

**SHIT THAT’S TODAY?**

 

**From FRANK - 8:59 AM**

**Just kidding I’m totally in the teacher’s lounge feeling all professional.**

 

I smiled down at my phone like an idiot. Fuckin’ Frank.  I decided to be ballsy.

 

**To FRANK - 9:02 AM**

**Nice. Is Gerard there?**

 

My heart was hammering in my chest after I sent the text. Frank was inevitably going to make fun of me for it eventually.

 

**From FRANK - 9:04 AM**

**He left a few minutes ago. What’s up with you guys?**

 

I was assuming he was referring to neither of us talking over break. But I was determined to deny everything in the end. Taking a step and thinking about that, I realized I was being a stereotypical girl, but I really didn’t have the emotional capability to deal with Gerard right now, and the debate over whether a relationship existed or not. We never talked about it ever since the Friday of Thanksgiving break when we had a short lived make out session.

Never brought up again. Which would make me think that he regretted it, but his continued behavior around me served to counteract that point. So what was I supposed to do but deny everything and take it as it came?

 

**To FRANK - 9:05 AM**

**I don’t know what you’re talking about?**

 

**From FRANK - 9:06 AM**

**He said you didn’t try to talk to him once over break.**

 

**To FRANK - 9:07 AM**

**He didn’t try to talk to me either! I didn’t want to bother him.**

 

And why would Gerard even say that to Frank! It made me hot and bothered. But his class was supposed to start at 9:10. He walked in the room a few minutes after I sent that text to Frank with no reply, which was odd for Frank.

Gerard strode across the front of the classroom, not looking up until he set his leather bookbag down by his feet at his desk. He seemed to be regarding some papers left on his desk, then looked up as a smile trickled over his mouth to regard all of us in the room.

“Welcome back to hell. I’m Professor Gerard Way, this is fundamentals of art. You’re either a freshman taking this class to get it out of the way or a senior who put it off for too long, and I am seeing both of you in the seats.” Gerard stood at the front, his hands clasped behind his back. He opened a laptop on the podium and turned on the projector underneath. He hadn’t so much as looked my direction. Maybe he hadn’t seen me.

“This isn’t a hard class, but you can certainly make it hard for yourself. So be on time, do the work, do your best, and that honestly is all.” He dimmed the lights and began a standard first day lecture. He introduced the class, the rules, the timeline, the required books. I could’ve sworn his eyes brushed over where I was sitting once or twice, but... _nothing_

He excused himself a few minutes early, so I didn’t even have the chance to catch up with him after class. My heart hung low in my chest as I shuffled out into the quad for an hour break before my next class.

As I sat out in the sun between the portable walls and the chain link fence Gerard had showed me on his first day teaching, I lit up a cigarette and breathed, splaying my legs out on the ground beneath me. It was only the last week of January and this year was sucking.

I checked my phone to see if Frank had replied-or God forbid, Gerard had texted me-but both were a no-go. I decided to text Frank.

 

**To FRANK - 10:17 AM**

**Did something happen over break with him?**

 

I figured it couldn’t hurt to at least ask. I didn’t want to just be like, _What the fuck is up with Gerard?_ But I exactly wanted to be like _WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH GERARD._

 

It took Frank about half an hour to reply. He probably had finished his first class of the day.

 

**From FRANK - 10:49 AM**

**Ehhhh….???**

 

Frank obviously didn’t want to get involved. I shrugged it off, finishing my cigarette and going about the rest of my day. I had a history of photography class up next. 

 

 

Later that night when I was decompressing from the first day, my phone buzzed again.

 

**From FRANK - 8:11 PM**

**Did you end up talking to him at all?**

 

**To FRANK - 8:12 PM**

**No. He’s avoiding me. It’s whatever. Please don’t say anything to him.**

 

I was mulling over my complete class schedule over some notes from my photography class and a cup of chamomile tea. The next time I would see Gerard was Friday. I had his class Monday and Friday at 9:15 in the morning. The last day of term was May 27th. I hated how short the spring semester was; it made me feel rushed.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I tried talking to Frank some, but he seemed distant too. Which was fucking fantastic because I loved loneliness and being alone. I made it through the first week. It was Friday night and I was sipping from a bottle of Silver Agave tequila, a bowl of limes next to me. I was on my fifth season of rewatching American Dad and hated myself a little for it. 

My head was spinning like a fucking Tilt-A-Whirl. I hauled myself to my feet using the arm of my sofa, shuffling to the kitchen to see if I could find some carbs to offset the dizziness. I hadn’t had much of an appetite this week, probably due to the upset that Gerard had-inadvertently or not-caused me. I filled up one of my old water bottles and downed it in four big gulps. I was also massively dehydrated. You’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you?

It came as a surprise when I felt my phone vibrating under my thigh. I looked down at the caller. It was Frank. I picked it up, fumbling to put it to my face

“Hello?” I giggled into the phone. “Shit.” I dropped the bowl of limes off the coffee table, scrambling to pick them up.

“Charlotte?” Frank questioned. 

“Hold on I just-fucking-dropped my fucking limes all over the godamn floor,” I said slowly. “What’ssss happening, Frankie baby?”

“Yeah, not much,” he said trepidatiously. “Just checking in to see how your first week went. How are you feeling right now?”  
  
“Right now? Right now I’m fucking great. Couldn’t be better. Couldn’t be better than this, Frank.”

“Okay, sure. You been drinking?”

“Awww, only a little bit. Just celebrating the end of the year!”

“Don’t you mean week?”

“Week, year, I mean them all!” I started laughing. God, since when was I so fucking hilarious? I dropped my head onto the couch behind me, as I was sprawled on the ground from grabbing all my limes. “Limes roll really far.”

“They happen to be spherical objects. They tend to do that. Anyway, you have a goood night. Tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill myself Anthony, jesus,” I said, before realizing who I was talking to.

“What?”

“No. Sorry. Old habit of mine. I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye Frank!” I said, hitting the “END” button faster than anything I’ve ever hit in my life. I just sat on the wooden floor for a while before sinking down onto my back, stretching my hands far above my head. That was a disaster. But you know what was more of a disaster? The fact that my tequila was out.

_I should go on a walk to clear my head. Also, it’s pretty out right now._

It seemed like a perfectly good idea at the time. I pulled a jacket and boots on, grabbing my cigarettes from my kitchen counter before hopping down the stairs-staggering was more like it. I turned the corner out of the stairwell into the lobby at a higher than normal space and collided into someone’s solid chest.

“Holy shit! I’m so sorry!” I started laughing uncontrollably. “I was in a hurry and wasn’t-I wasn’t looking, oh my god!”

When I stepped back from wiping my eyes at the tears of laughter forming in the corner of my eyes, a familiar black haired face came into my view.

“Oh my god, Gerard!” I ran forward, tackling him in a hug. “Holy shit I missed you so much over break. Why didn’t you text me at all?” I stuck my bottom lip out, looking up at him.

“Um. I was busy. With school stuff. Grading. Planning.” Gerard’s eyebrows were knitted together as he looked down his pixie nose at me. “Charlotte, you fucking reek of tequila. Don’t tell me you were going outside like this.” He fixed a hand on my shoulder, turning me to the direction of the elevator.

“I ran out of tequila,” I scoffed. Gerard’s eyes widened, as they usually did with me. He regained composure, hammering the elevator call button with a slender pale finger. “What are you even doing here?”

“I was going to see Frank. We’ve been too busy to catch up this week,” he explained, keeping a firm hand on my shoulder. I spun around, wriggling out of his grasp, marching right up to his face.

“Not here to finally say hi to me? After weeks of hanging out everyday and suddenly nothing from you?” I said bitterly. He deserved it. “You didn’t even notice I was in your class!” His mouth thinned into one line.

“No, Charlotte, trust me I did. I-”

“Gerard I like you.” I slurred, my eyelids getting heavy. He looked genuinely sad. “Wow, geez, okay.”

“I’m sorry Charlotte. I like you too. I wish things were different! You’re eight, almost nine years younger than me and not only that...you’re one of my fucking students! I would get in so much trouble from the college board of directors. Charlotte, I really like you. Too much. But,” he said, his voice strained, “your college education is more important to me than me getting laid and selfishly indulging myself in you when you need to be focused on more things than me.”

“So you’re like...breaking up with me,” I said lowly.

“I can’t break up with you if we were never dating in the first place!” Gerard snapped at me, causing me to jump. The fire in his eyes immediately softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.” I just stood there, frozen and open mouthed.  

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said in a monotone voice. I hardly recognized it as my own. I was on autopilot. I was seething. Fire was ripping from my chest. I was about to erupt. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Don’t say things like that, please,” Gerard whimpered. His face was contorted into one of pain and he almost reached out to hug me, but he caught himself and lowered his arms back to his sides. “I’m sorry. This is really hard on me, too.”

“Then why are you doing it?” I couldn’t help but hiss. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. “No. You’re right. It’s not like we were dating. This is better. This is good.” _This is good. This is good_. I kept repeating it over and over to myself as if I were trying to convince myself that it was true.

Just to make it sting all that much more, I stuck my hand out in his direction for a handshake. He looked up from it to my eyes, a broken expression on his face as he took it limply. I gave it a firm shake before dropping it, smiling and stepping out of the lobby into the waiting elevator.

“I’ll see you around campus then!” I didn’t wait for a reply before I slammed the DOOR CLOSE button. How humiliating. After almost three weeks of nonstop communication, lunches together everyday, and almost hooking up whenever we were alone or Frank left the two of us to our devices, he had decided that we shouldn’t keep it up. I made a joke about him breaking up with me, and that’s where it all started.

He claimed he was distracting me from my studies, and that it wasn’t ethical for him to have any sort of relationship with me while he was my superior. After all of those late night talks, breakfast meetups, and drawing each other. All of this.

 

 _Meaningless_.

I got out on my floor, storming to my apartment. Maybe all of my anger was sapping any sort of drunken stupor I had hanging over me. I had only one goal in mind.

 **RED**.

I knew the drawer where I stashed them away, in their neat plastic coffin. I ripped open the desk organizer, grabbing them and ripping it open. I ripped off my pants, sitting on the edge of my bed with an x-acto knife pinched between my thumb and forefinger. My heart was pounding in my chest, and tears were forming in my eyes. All I wanted was to see blood.

* * *

 

I woke up a few hours later curled up on the mat on my bathroom floor, my entire lower half a sticky, peeling red. It had to be about four in the morning. Every movement I made _killed_ me. There were dried up puddles of blood on my linoleum floor. I gasped at the sight. The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in. I had just relapsed. I had just relapsed. _Oh my god. I was so stupid. I was so worthless_. Tears began to pour down my face silently. I was horrified. Despite the mind-splintering pain I jumped to my feet, grabbing a wad of tissues to moisten and start to clean up the mess and pretend it never happened.

Where was I supposed to go from here? What was I supposed to do? I felt like I had just run into a brick wall behind a fake door. My life was flashing before my eyes. _I needed to drop out of college_ , one voice in my head thought.

 _You’re about to start your senior year in a couple months. You can’t do that. That would be so stupid._  
 _But would taking a semester off be the end of the world?_ Or should I just shoulder on through it and deal with it and worry about killing myself later, when I had a degree and was living far away from everything here. When I was in debt.  After mopping up the rest of the mess, I smeared some neosporin on the deep gashes I made. I was a mess. And this was all my fault.

 


	11. New Year, Same Me

It had been about four months since the end of the academic year, and therefore four months since I had seen Gerard. It was mid-September and I was nearing the beginning of my senior year of college. I was reflecting on this during the probably most inappropriate moment that a could; I was out on a date with my kind of boyfriend.

 

He had gone up to the bar to get us some drinks and I was just sitting at the table, swirling my noodles around my fork in my ramen bowl. I thought about Gerard a lot, but was finally getting the urge to pick up the phone and call him less and less. Once I began to let the thought of him go, I was able to actually focus on other guys in my life. The guy I was currently waiting on to get my drink had gone to high school with me. He’d been through all of the ups and downs, my old boyfriends. Ben had been friends with me before Anthony, but I started talking to him less and less when Anthony got his hold on me. I cut too many people out of my life because of that psychopath, and I hated myself a little bit for it.

 

Before I could wrap up my thoughts, Ben sat down at our booth, pushing a beer towards me. “What’s up? You look pissed off. Did I do something wrong?” He joked. I forced a smile back at him.

 

“Nah, it’s not you. Just thinking. It’s been a long week, you know?” I said. I took a sip of my beer, tapping my fingers on the glass nervously. “I just feel so on edge tonight. I don’t really know why.”

 

Ben reached across the table, wrapping his hand around mine. His thumb stroked mine reassuringly. “Hey, that’s fine. Just let me know what I can do to help, Charlotte, and I’ll do it.”

 

He was so sweet. I wish I had more feelings for him, because he deserved that. Maybe I hadn’t given myself enough time with all of these insane male figures going in and out of my life. Maybe then I would have been able to be happier with Ben. Deep down, I was really afraid it wasn’t going to work out, but I didn’t want to actually talk about that with him. I just needed to wait it out. I’d be able to love him.

 

I did actually have fun with him. We participated in the couples trivia game and Gerard didn’t cross my mind for the rest of the night. That is, until I saw him across the bar sitting next to another former professor of mine. The closer I inspected him, the more I realized there was no way that was actually Gerard. He was a lot taller, his hair was too long, and he had didn’t have a leather book bag. His shoulders were too square. Everything about him was wrong.

 

When Ben came back from the bathroom and snaked his arm around my waist to walk me home, my heart was fluttering in my mouth. I only wished it was because of Ben, and not because I had thought I had caught a glimpse of a former flame in the bar.

  
  


Ben had wanted to come in, and I was feeling guilty about the entirety of our relationship so I let him. He had fallen asleep while we were watching a movie so I just decided to let him stay over. 

 

I was lying on my back. Ben had been out for a few hours. It was pitch black outside, but I couldn’t find my phone to actually get the real time. All I knew was I needed to buy more sleeping meds later that day.  _ Maybe a shower will clear my thoughts _ . I untangled myself from the bed sheets and shuffled into the bathroom. Under the glare of the fluorescent lights, I didn’t have the motivation to wash my hair. But it would help.

 

After I sat on the floor of my shower and let the steamy water pound my back for a solid ten minutes, I felt better and a tad tired. I toweled off and changed into clean pajamas before heading back to my bedroom. Ben was still sound asleep when I slipped back under the covers with my back to him. I rubbed my eyes with my hands, inhaling the soothing lavender of my body soap in deeply. I loved when I smelled like soft, beautiful things instead of cigarette smoke.

 

I didn’t really sleep. Instead, I reflected on the past four months since I had seen Gerard. Seeing someone that looked almost like him had really put my head for a spin. The last time I had seen him was in the spring, maybe April, in his class. I realized I loved him in that moment. He was going on about something art related, but I wasn’t really listening to his words. I was listening to the way he talked faster and out of the side of his mouth, waving his hands wildly around the piece of art he was projecting up on the screen. So much passion. I loved and hated him in that moment. 

 

And on that day, I made an even harder decision to drop his class. I went to the counseling office. They said it would set me back on my degree, but I said I would just take some extra work on in my last year and maybe do some work study. My counselor wasn’t thrilled, but she went ahead and did it. Maybe she sensed the desperation in my voice, or maybe she somehow knew what I was going through by the grace of God. Whatever it was, I left that office feeling like shit.

 

It had been almost two months since my relapse. I hadn’t gone to one of the therapists on campus because I was afraid of clauses in the confidentiality agreement. I wanted to tell them everything about Gerard, but I was afraid for his job. Normally it shouldn’t be a problem since we’re both adults at a university, but our campus was oddly restrictive about it. They wanted a safe learning environment. THe more I thought about it, the more sense it made. That didn’t mean it made me happy.

 

Over the summer I relapsed again. Badly. Not only with cutting, but I started getting crafty on where to put cigarette burns out. This resulted in me wearing long sleeves and jeans all summer. I saw a psychiatrist once, but that was solely to get a prescription for xanax and sedatives. They concluded I had major depression, social anxiety, and chronic insomnia. I began taking my meds with a glass of vodka every night. I successfully did this the whole summer without letting my parents or Jordy know. One night stands out. 

 

I was sitting on my roof, looking out across Los Angeles. The smog disgusted me. I wanted to fly away from there. I didn’t want to go back to school. I didn’t want to deal with the fact that I have to redo fundamentals of art. I had just gotten a four month refill of my sedatives and was sitting on the roof with the still sealed jar and a bottle of whiskey. I tried talking myself into taking them all along with the whole bottle, but something held me back. I don’t know what it was. 

 

I climbed down from the roof, took a shower, slept, and got up the next morning and dumped out all the alcohol I had left in the house.

 

I jolted back awake, in my old apartment with Ben. I had begun to drift into a dreamlike state, reminiscing about my near suicide attempt. As I lay next to Ben, I couldn’t help but feel ungrateful. We began dating a few weeks ago. It wasn’t there for me. But I was happy to have a warm body to sleep with. It calmed me down. I heard a buzzing sound from under the bed, realizing that’s where my phone must have slipped to.

 

**From Frank Iero - 2:11 AM**

**Hey. I was just wondering if I’m going to see you around campus next week. Thinking of you, miss you bro.**

 

My arm dangled off the bed above my phone. I didn’t know how to respond. I had kind of ignored Frank for the past 4 or so months. He reminded me of Gerard and I hadn’t been able to deal with anything like that. Which made me feel so dumb, because Gerard and I hadn’t ever dated. He was just the closest thing to home I had ever felt within a person. I pulled the phone off the ground, holding it above my face while I debated whether or not to reply.

 

**To Frank Iero - 2:14 AM**

**I’ll be there. Second to last semester ever. Miss you too.**

 

I decided to just keep it short. Maybe then he wouldn’t text me again. Don’t get me wrong, I loved hearing from Frank. He had been a good friend, even if we hadn’t known each other for too long. But he did text me back.

 

**From Frank Iero - 2:16 AM**

**Good to hear from you. Been worried, ya know?**

 

I wasn’t really sure what to say to that. It sounded like he wanted to keep talking. Leave it to me to overanalyze a simple text messaging conversation. 

 

Eventually I drifted off to sleep. I had to go to campus the next day to get my schedule since my online advisor wasn't connecting at my apartment for some reason. I needed at least some sleep if I was going to go back to that campus again.

 

Apparently I wasn't the only one that was having Internet connectivity issues with the school website. I was last in line of maybe twenty people eagerly awaiting their schedules. When I got to the front of the line and sat down across the counselor, my heart sunk deep into my chest.

 

“No, I can't take his class. I have a problem with him. Is there anybody else who teaches that class?” I stammered, pushing the schedule back across the table with one finger quickly, as if I were afraid of touching it longer than I had to. The counselor across from me sighed through her nose, looking down at me over her glasses.

 

“Miss Payn, we don't exactly have another class for the fundamentals of art. We might have another one become available, but it would still be taught by Professor Way,” she said slowly.

 

“Is there another class I could take in place of this to fulfill the requirement?” I asked desperately.

 

Mrs. Cox took her glasses off her face entirely, folding them calmly between her hands. “Charlotte, you need this class to graduate. Hawthorn used to teach it but she isn't coming back, as you know. If anything else becomes available, you will be the first person I at notify.”

 

I thought I was going to start crying. I muttered a quick thanks to Shirley before I grabbed my schedule and marched off to the parking lot. I swear steam was pouring from my ears. I was about to wrench my car door open when I heard my name being called.

 

“Charlie Payn!” Frank was also walking through the parking structure. I groaned internally.

 

“Sup,” I said quickly, throwing my purse onto the passenger seat.

 

He stopped in front of my car, leaning onto the hood. “Well, you look pissed.”

 

I slammed my door shut again, as I had the feeling I was going to be here for a while. “Yes, I'm pissed, because I got stuck back into Gerard’s stupid fucking class again this semester. I don't want to fucking see him.” 

 

Frank opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. 

 

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I whined, leaning back against my car door. 

 

“Well, shit. Don’t know what to tell you, kid,” Frank said awkwardly, shoving his hands in his front pockets.

 

“I haven’t talked to him in five months,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

 

“Why?” Frank asked, playing the idiot. He knew why.

 

“Because I have the biggest crush on him and he broke my heart,” I said dramatically, putting my hand over my eyes. He shot me a look. “Humor is my coping mechanism or I would be dead by now.”

 

“Wouldn’t we all. Anyway, if you want to get coffee sometime this week before classes start to catch up, I’d be totally down,” Frank brushed his long brown bangs out of his eyes, looking at me expectantly.

 

“Yeah, sure. Just text me. I’m going to go home and deal with my boyfriend now.” I thought about Ben, probably just waking up in my apartment. I had left him a note telling him where I was going. I should feel a flutter of excitement telling Frank about my new boyfriend. 

 

I didn’t.

 

“Boyfriend? Congrats. How long have you guys been together?” Frank raised his eyebrows. Images of Gerard raising his flashed through my mind. 

 

“Three weeks? Four weeks?” I honestly couldn’t remember.

 

“Whoa, you don’t even know? You sound thrilled,” he remarked sarcastically. I sighed, looking down at my shoes.

 

“I was tired of being alone. Met him through my friend Jessica and he liked me so I went for it,” I explained. Frank was giving me another judgemental look. “I know that’s not how it’s supposed to go, but it’s...complicated. I haven’t ever really had a healthy relationship with anybody. Spent most of my high school years with a crazy guy who destroyed me. But Ben is nice. He’s a good guy. He is.”

 

Maybe if I said that enough I would start to love him for it.

 

“Mmm, a good guy, those are so hard to find. A nice guy. A plain guy. A vanilla guy. The fuck, Charlie?” Frank let out a giggle, slipping his book bag over his shoulder. “Look, we’ll talk more about it...tomorrow?”

 

“Sure. Let’s say noon.”

 

“Alright, sleepyhead. Hang in there,” he said, giving me a quick wink before crossing the parking lot to hop in his own black car. I got into my driver seat, sitting there while he drove away. I didn’t want to go back to talk to Ben. I wanted to talk to Gerard. I wanted to call him and see how he was and shoot the shit and tell him I loved him. That was what I wanted.

  
I wanted Gerard. I wanted to want Ben, but I didn’t. And those were the facts.


	12. We Need To Talk

Coffee with Frank was nice. It was good to finally catch up with him and fill him in on everything, and open up a bit more to him to really give him the scope of the shit I was in. He was sympathetic and as far as he knew, there wasn’t going to be any other teachers for the class I needed.

“Have you thought about doing an internship within the art department?” He asked, draining the rest of his coffee. My cup had been empty for a while.

“I haven’t. I need to get a job this year. I haven’t been the past two years because I’ve had so many classes, but I’m a little under full time these next two semesters. I think. I hope. I don’t know. I would do anything to get out of that class though,” I said exasperatedly.

“Anything?” Frank joked and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Shut up. Can’t fuck the professor, believe me; I’ve tried.” I said dejectedly.

“What a bummer. You and Gerard both not talking to each other but both telling me about how much you wish the other was talking to you. So tragic. If only this could be solved with...communication. But we both know that’s just an outlandish concept,” Frank said, his words stunning me.

“Gerard wants to talk to me?” I asked quietly.

“Of fucking course, Charlie. Did you think he stopped hanging out with you because he just wanted to fuck with your head? Dude has issues. He didn’t want to make them your issues. He talks about you all the goddamn time and to be honest, I’m sick of it,” he smiled. I knew he was being sarcastic but my heart was speeding up in my chest.

“I don’t want to get into that again. You know I really liked him, Frank. You know. It hurt. And it was embarrassing for me! I was such a mess that night.” I rubbed my right thigh consciously, feeling the grooves of my scars through my sweatpants. Frank didn’t seem to notice.

“You guys infuriate me. But I guess I get it. Just keep an open mind, deal with it when it comes, burn that bridge when you get to it.” Frank stood up after glancing at his clock. “I’ve got a meeting to run to, but keep in touch, okay? I know I probably remind you of Gerard, but you’re going to see him soon whether you like it or not and I’m here if you need to talk to someone. Really.”

“Thanks, Frank.”

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the week went by too fast. I was counting down the seconds until my first class with Gerard and it was driving me insane. No amount of xanax could quell the sirens blaring in my brain at all hours of the day. I started talking to Ben less and less, and he began to worry, I think. Texted me more, asking me if I wanted to do anything before school began. I told him I was really busy with coursework, which was a lie. But some classes had some pre-class assignments to deal with, so that was the story I was going with.

The first Monday of the semester arrived. I woke up four hours before any class that I had simply because I couldn’t force myself back to sleep with my hammering heart. I smoked half a pack of cigarettes in the parking lot an hour before my class with Gerard. Slowly, people trickled onto the campus to start, some of them chubby faced freshman, and some of them blatantly hungover seniors like me. 

Two semesters, and I’d have a degree in photography. I wasn’t sure what I was going to be doing with that degree, but at least I’d have my bachelor’s finally. I just didn’t want to get stuck taking photos of people’s stupid newborn babies. I decided to just go to the classroom listed for the class I had with Gerard. It was unlocked when I jiggled the handle, so I decided to go in and just claim a spot in the back. I was about half an hour early, but it was worth not having to sit near the front. I knew Gerard was near-sighted so even if he saw me, he might not recognize me.

I realized how dumb this sounded a few minutes later.

Ten o’ clock struck the clock. The entire room was filled with students, but no sign of a teacher. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed. Some people were looking around, ready to leave if another five minutes was up. I was more than okay with that idea. Just as a few kids were getting up to leave, who else but Frank Iero slams the door open, pausing for breath. 

“Hi! Sorry I’m late,” he said between pants. “There was a mix up with...the schedule for this...class. Jesus I’m late,” he muttered to himself, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he trotted down the center aisle to the front. He plopped himself down in the leather office chair, putting his feet up on the desk. “Oh god am I exhausted.”

“I thought Professor Way was teaching this class,” some girl from the first three rows hollered. Frank smirked, waving his hand at the idea.

“Nah, not anymore. I’m teaching it now!” He beamed, standing up and locking eyes with me in the very back row. “You can all shut your mouths from surprise now, you’ll attract flies. Life changes, deal with it! So let’s do this!”

Holy shit how much coffee had he chugged that morning?

I was in a numb stage of relief. After the relief passed, though, I was filled with immense disappointment which really pissed me off. Frank was handling the class expertly though, and everybody seemed to like him. But where the hell was Gerard?

I checked my phone. I had missed a text from Frank earlier.

 

**From Frank Iero - 10:01 AM**

**BOY DO I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU**

 

I stifled a laugh. After the hour ended, I walked up to his desk.

“Surprise!” He threw his arms out into jazz hands. “Betcha weren’t expecting that were you?”

“Is Gerard okay?” I asked, the concern in my voice apparent even though I tried to conceal it.

“Gerard is A-Ok. Don’t you worry. But I’m your professor. And with that done, you shouldn’t have him for a teacher in any of your classes if I’m right?” Frank got to his feet, shrugging into his jacket.

“He didn’t get fired did he?” I asked. Frank threw his head back and laugh, his hair shaking.

“Hell no. God, that would be hilarious though. No, he’s still teaching here. He’s just teaching different art classes. I double majored in studio art and music theory, and after hearing your plight the other day and his incessant bitching about having to teach this class again, I figured, why the hell not?” Frank shot me a dazzling smile. “I’m about to go have coffee with him. Do you want to come?”

“No,” I said quickly. “I’m fine thanks. Have fun though.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said hi,” he winked.

“I didn’t say hi to him! I do not say hi. Leave me out of this, please,” I whimpered, clasping my hands together.

“Whatever you say, kiddo,” he nodded at me before leaving the room. I snuck off to the drainage pipe on the back of campus, a concoction of emotions swirling around inside me and making me sick. Maybe it was nicotine poisoning from everything I had smoked today. Maybe it was the fact that I desperately wanted to see Gerard. Maybe it was because I couldn’t stop wondering if he wanted to see me, too.

I didn’t have to wonder about that long. After I put my cigarette out, I hopped down on the other side of the pipe, right into him.

 

* * *

 

“HO-ly shit,” he said, dropping his coffee onto the dirt. “Fuck!” He bent down to pick the trash up, his back still to me. I just stood there, frozen, behind him. He stood back up, turning to face me. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit,” I said, surprised at my own words. I was sure I was going to lose the ability to speak.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

I decided to smoke another cigarette to give me something to think about. I fumbled with my lighter, eventually blowing a puff of smoke into the air.

“Why aren’t you teaching my class?” I decided to not spew any bullshit and cut to the chase. He was looking down at the ground where his coffee was now spilled, soaking into the grass.

“I don’t know. Frank offered and I thought about it and I hated that class anyway,” Gerard said quietly. “How have you been, Charlotte?”

“I’ve been fantastic,” I lied. “Couldn’t be better. Got a work study here on campus at the book store, got a boyfriend, working on graduating. Life is good.” I couldn’t help but smirk when he gave me a pained look.

“That’s good to hear,” he said with a strained voice.

“How have you been?” I asked.

“Good. Good.”

I didn’t say anything for a few minutes. I wanted to die, this conversation was so awkward.

“You look good,” he finally said, still looking at the ground.

“Is every time we talk from here on out going to be this uncomfortable?” I asked. He blinked at me, taken aback from my bluntness.

“Not unless you want it to be,” he offered. 

“I would rather light myself on fire,” I admitted. 

“Good because this is shitty.”

“It  _ is _ shitty.” I stood there for a few more minutes before tossing and grinding my cigarette into the dirt. “When you get use of your voice back, hit me up.” And walked away. I felt a little bad, but that had to have been the most badass thing I’d ever done. I hoped I didn’t reveal what an anxious mess I had been in my head. Gotta be a cool bitch, I reminded myself.

I pulled my phone out, dialing Ben up.

“Charlotte! How was your first day?” I could hear him smiling through the phone.

  
“It’s not over yet, but it’s been good. We need to talk.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but good chapter!

I felt bad for Ben. I really did. But it was all for the best. I gave him the whole, It’s not you it’s me schpiel, told him he could delete me off everything or keep talking to me, whatever he wanted. He didn’t have anything at my apartment so that simplified it, but I still felt like a monster. He admitted to seeing it coming. Wished it was different. I agreed (I lied).

And that was that. I felt bad that I didn’t feel bad. But it felt like a load had been lifted from my shoulders. It was Friday night and I was heading up to Frank’s apartment to play some video games and drink to the end of the first week of term. I had a six pack of Guiness under my arm, knocking on the door awkwardly. I heard muffled voices and shuffling on the other side of the door. Was someone else there?

The door opened, but it wasn’t Frank that I was looking at.

It was Gerard. I think we both cringed internally, but he just said a small ‘hello’ before opening the door wide enough for me to come in.

“Our stripper’s here, nice!” Frank hooted as he jumped up from the couch, wrapping me in a bear hug. I couldn’t help but laugh, and Gerard did too, which eased the tension ever so slightly.

“You know I quit the streets a long time ago, Frank. You, however, are a different story,” I smacked his ass and he batted his eyes at me.

“Sorry Gerard, I know it’s been forever since you’ve been laid but you heard her, she’s retired,” Frank quipped. I blushed deeply, as did Gerard. We regarded each other with dinner plates for eyes and red cheeks. “Tough crowd. I’m going to go get the pizza! You have fun and stay safe, you crazy kids!”

Frank grabbed his wallet off his coffee table, giving me a wink before he closed the door despite me calling him every name in the book. Gerard and I stood in the entryway staring at the closed front door in shock.

“I wasn’t in on this, I swear,” were the first words from Gerard’s lips. I turned, regarding him coolly.

“Sure.” I decided to do what I always did: crack open a beer. I offered one to him, which he awkwardly accepted. “Seeing me twice in one week must be really shitty for you.”

“Why would you say that?” He said exasperatedly, his hands on his head. “Why do you say stuff like that? Why do you think I hate you?”

I sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re being serious right now. Do you want me to spell it out for you? Or, you’re the professional here, you made that apparent. Teach me, Mr. Way,” I glared up at him from my new seat on the couch. He paced back in forth in front of me.

“Charlotte, I had to stop hanging out with you. You were like a drug to me. You were illegal. You know that. And I think I’m just going to leave, I don’t want to cause any problems between you and your boyfriend-”

“I broke up with him yesterday.”  
My voice cut the tension in the air like a knife. I could see Gerard’s brain just wipe clean, looking at me with a confused look in his eyes, his hands still knotted into his hair.

“Why did you do that?! You were finally happy!” He was suddenly angry. Wow. This had not been expected.

“I was never happy with him, Gerard. He was a good kid, but we didn’t click. The way,” I began slowly, “we click.” Gerard had stopped pacing and had stuffed both of his hands into the pocket of his black jeans. It was nice to see him in super casual attire; he was wearing those black skinny jeans, cream high top Converse, a Metallica tee shirt and a navy cardigan. The look suited him well.

“You think me constantly changing my mind about you is clicking? I’m a mess, Charlotte,” he whimpered. My heart hurt to see him like this. I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Maybe not. Maybe you’re right.” I was about halfway done with my first beer. I needed a cigarette. “I’m going to smoke if you want to join me on the fire escape.” Gerard just gave me a quick nod and we both snaked out through the side window onto the metal stairwell, the biting breeze whipping us both in the face.

“Your hair is longer,” he observed, flicking his lighter to life.

“That tends to happen when time goes by,” I shot back, lighting my own cigarette. We sat down next to each other on the lowest stair in silence.

It felt like an eternity before he said anything. “I’m sorry.”

I took a few puffs of my cigarette, not sure what to say to that.

“You don’t have to forgive me. I was scared. And you were quite an antithesis to everything I had started to think within the past few years. I really liked you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Deep down, I knew that was true. I also had not known what to do, as evidenced by my many meltdowns and constant questions of, Damn, what should I do?

“I don’t blame you. I was a mess-”

“No Charlotte, you weren’t. Even if you were, it was probably because of me-”

“No Gerard. No. You didn’t make me anything but happy.”

“But I took that away from you.”

“You had to.”

We both silently agreed in the minutes following my acceptance of his apology. We each smoked two cigarettes out on that windy stairwell four stories up, and I knew we were both regretting things that had happened because we knew there would be no way to get past them. I felt a certain acceptance at acknowledging this fact.

“It’s okay,” I said, after we had just been sitting there with no lit smokes for a few minutes.

“I missed you,” he admitted. I decided I would just be acting friendly if I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“I miss you too,” I said, situating myself next to him before leaning against him. I felt him stiffen, then relax as he wrapped an arm around me.

“You’re too good of a person to exist. I don’t understand what I did right to meet you.”

  


Frank came back about five minutes later with pizza, eyeing us both mischievously. Gerard and I sent a barrage of insults his direction before our hunger got the better of us and we dug into the pies he had brought back. I then sat out while Frank and Gerard played Super Smash Bros, a game I was not fond of in the slightest.

It was nice to be back with my two best friends. A piece of myself I hadn’t really noticed was broken had been hugged back into place on that fire escape.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one but I'm sorry! I wanted to split it into two :)

Gerard was elected to be the one to make a beer run when the six pack I brought had disappeared. Frank chose to ambush me the second Gerard walked out the door.

“Please tell me you guys made up,” he begged, scooting next to me on the couch.

“We talked. He apologized-”

“You didn’t?” He elbowed me. “I’m just kidding, you do you.”

“What do you want from me, Frank? What do you want me and or Gerard to do?” I asked Frank frankly. He pondered on this question for a few minutes, resting his chin on his hands.

“I want you two to be happy. You looked happy before. And now,” he said with a sly smile, “he technically isn’t your professor anymore.”

It was like a light bulb had gone off over my head. I understood why that was such a commonly used term; what I should do suddenly became illuminated.

“Oh my god, you’re right,” I whispered. Frank nodded slowly next to me.

“Of fucking course I’m right. I was sick of seeing you two miserable, and also sick of just plain not seeing you.”

“I don’t think he wants anything to do with me like that anymore,” I said, terrified at the notion.

“Shut the fuck up, Charlie, and ask him yourself. You two are grownups, you can do it yourself.”

“Oh, and so trying to get us together is us doing it ourselves, then?” I asked, shooting Frank a quizzical look. He just shrugged.

“Whatever totes your goat.”

 

We hung out way too late into the night. I was exhausted from my first week of class, as were they. Eventually we wrapped it up, saying goodbye to Frank at his apartment door. We both assumed he promptly fell asleep after we left. 

“I am just so hyped UP after that last brawl match. God damn it!” I said in spite of my obvious exhaustion.

“You kids have so much energy,” Gerard said wearily, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep up with you.”

“Can’t say you’re trying too hard,” I teased, sticking my tongue out at him. Gerard clutched his chest, drawing a sharp intake of breath.

“Don’t taunt me like that, you fucking vixen.” I smirked at his frustration, skipping down the hall towards the elevator.

“Old people like you have to take the elevator, I can just hop up the stairs!” I sang, probably louder than I should at three in the morning. I didn’t have time to glance behind me when I heard the hurried footsteps, and suddenly I was lunged at from the hip and thrown over Gerard’s shoulder. He twisted as we fell so I landed on him, and not the other way around. We collapsed into a fit of giggles and long hair tangled in eyelashes. “I’m so tired,” I admitted, laying my head on his chest. His heart was hammering at lightning speeds.

“Hi Tired, I’m Gerard,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to get up.”

“Me neither.”

We stayed like that for a few minutes.

“Someone’s going to think we were murdered,” I said into his chest.

“Guess I got to get to stabbing you to death,” he grumbled, hauling both of us to our feet. He spun me around so I was behind him and crouched down. “I’ll give you a ride to your apartment.”

“Ooooh, I get to ride you?” I joked. He threw his head back in frustration.

“Charlotte, I swear to God, get on the fucking back or you’re walking.” But I heard the strain in his voice. A few minutes later, he set me down outside my apartment. “I’m not unlocking it for you, you can do that all on your own, you big girl you!” He pinched my cheek, reddening it even more.

“Dick.” I unlocked my apartment and held the door open, waiting for him to come in for some reason.

“What, is there an after party I don’t know about?” He asked, sticking his head through the frame.

“You’re not driving tonight, you can stay here or stay at Frank’s. But I,” I fished around in my jacket pocket for his keys, “have these.” I dangled them in front of his face. To my surprise, he just nodded while pursing his lips.

“Fair enough. You crashed at my place, I crash at yours. Then we’re even, the prophecy is fulfilled, and we never have to talk to each other again.” He began emptying his pockets of his phone and wallet, setting them on my dining room table. “What, is that not how it works?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I muttered. I actually hadn’t expected him to be so open to this idea. I was beginning to panic as my alcohol induced braveness was subsiding. “I still have your sweats from when I was covered in blood. I’ll go grab ‘em.” I strode into my room, clawing through my dresser drawers. Soft footsteps indicated Gerard had followed me into my room.

“So this is Charlotte Payn’s room.” I glanced up through my hair at him.

“Do you hate it?”

“It’s amazing.”

I had a rather large room for the price I was paying for month. I had a sky blue floral jacquard wallpaper and my entire ceiling was covered in rows and rows of fairy lights. I sighed as I remembered the fortune I had spent on them. I just wanted it to look the night sky in my room. My queen bed had many pillows, few blankets, and a canopy hanging from the ceiling. I had DIY-ed it myself, so it wasn’t perfect, but it made me feel like a queen. In my far corner from my bed was all of my musical instruments and art stuff, the rest was spilled out into the living room.

“I needed a safe space from college. This is it,” I tossed his sweats at him. “Don’t have any boxers, sorry.”

He smiled. “This is a really cool room. I’m jealous. You’re artistic in both photography, drawing, interior design, and organization. You’re the second coming of Christ, I’m convinced.” 

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I shoved a towel into his hands. “You smell nasty. Go,” I pointed into the bathroom.

“Your hospitality skills could use some refinement, I will say that,” he joked before shutting the bathroom door. I leaned back against the wall with a loud  _ thunk _ . I was about to say how much of a mess I was in, but once I took a step back and actually thought about it, nothing about this was really messy. I felt high around him. I hadn’t felt so good in such a long time.

I wasn’t prepared for when he stepped out of the bathroom. The towel I had given him hung around his hips, and he was pink from the heat of the water.

“I, uh, I set the clothes down in your room. I was going to try and sneak out but...okay,” he grabbed the clothes from my dresser right inside my doorway, shutting the bathroom door quickly behind him. I was still staring at the door a few minutes later, just trying to process...him.

And that was when I realized I only had two armchairs in my living room and nowhere else for him to sleep.


	15. It's Not Love if It's Just Fucking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel like this was well awaited :) sorry if it's awkward, I haven't posted anything like this before, let me know what you think.

I had a small television in my ‘living room’. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as Frank’s big screen (he claimed he needed it for his video gaming) but I had mine turned on to the news while I messed around with shit on my laptop until Gerard came into the room. He sat down in the other armchair.

“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight. If you want, I can totally hop back up to Frank’s apartment and sleep with him. It wouldn’t have been the first time we’ve shared a bed,” he laughed. I also laughed-nervously.

“It’s no problem. I was just realizing that I don’t have a couch for you to sleep on, so it looks like we’ll be sharing a bed, too,” I said quietly, pretending to be engrossed in something online to not make a huge deal out of the sleeping situation. After I said that, the silence was electric. The TV mumbled softly in the background, but the static in the air was far more potent than any static coming off its screen.

“I’m fine with that if you’re fine with that,” Gerard said, swiping through something on his phone. It seemed we both had the same distraction sequence.

“Okay cool.” I shut my laptop. “I’m fucking exhausted. My second wind from trying to make you feel like the thirty year old loser you are has worn off and I’m ready to sleep for twelve or more hours.” 

I stood up, and so did he. He followed me into my bedroom. I pointed at the side closest to the door. “That’s your side. I can’t just switch sides to accommodate everyone, you know. Because I’m such shit with hospitality,” I smiled. Gerard smirked wearily back at me. 

“Sounds good.” We both kind of stood on our respective sides of the bed before sliding under the covers. After a few minutes, I pulled the cord on the light on my nightstand, extinguishing the room into darkness. There was some moonlight filtering in from the cracks between my blinds, giving an eery yet serene glow to my room.

I rolled over onto my right side, my back to Gerard. I had been tired but now...now my heart was drumming in my chest and blow was flowing  _ everywhere _ . I couldn’t calm down. I had taken my meds while he was in the shower so he wouldn’t see exactly how crazy I was. I thought he had fallen asleep so I grabbed my phone from my nightstand to check the time.

“Can’t sleep either?” He said softly. I locked my phone, putting it back down after I got over the shock from hearing him.

“Not really. It’s...hard.”

“You’re telling me.”

We both rolled over onto our backs, staring at the now dark nighttime sky that normally illuminated my room.

“What are you thinking about?” Gerard asked.

“You,” I admitted, feeling brave.

“That’s funny. Because I’m thinking about you.”

“What about me?”

“That I want to kiss you.”

I thought my chest was going to explode from the lack of oxygen in my lungs. My voice was shaky when I finally spoke.

“Well, why don’t you?”

“Because this is the first time we’ve properly seen each other in half a year and I don’t want you to think I look at you as a hook up,” he whispered into the night air.

“Fair enough,” I mused. I could see my chest beating from how hard my heart was working right now. 

“Because I look at you as somebody that I care a lot about. And I don’t want you to think anything else,” he said. “And I don’t want anybody else.”

I rolled over onto my left side, and he did the same. We were so close that I could feel his sweet breath on my eyelashes, but we were so far away that it felt like nothing would ever be able to close whatever gap, emotional or physical, we had between us. 

“I don’t want anybody else, either, Gerard,” I admitted. Both of our breathing was rapid.

“Good,” he said. I thought he was about to roll back over onto his back, but instead he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him, closing the physical gap. He brushed his lips against mine softly and I let out a moan despite my best intentions. “Good.”

He hitched my leg up over his side, finally giving me a real kiss. I flashed back to when we first kissed and how incredible that was, but it didn’t hold a torch to this moment. He peeled my shirt off of me, and I did the same to him, running my hands over his soft chest. We deepened the kiss before he flipped me onto my back, my legs still wrapped around him. I held up a finger and he pulled back. I strained to to reach my nightstand where I fished around for a condom in the drawer, holding it out to him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He breathed into my neck as he shrugged out of his sweatpants. 

“Gerard, I’ve wanted to do this ever since I met you. So yes. I’m sure.” I kissed him to further solidify my answer as he rolled the condom on. 

“If you say so.”

We became like one entity, moving at the same speed, becoming entangled in our own passions. His dark has was matted down to his forehead with sweat, as was my own, and I kept wiping beads from his brow. I did my best to stay somewhat quiet as it was almost four in the morning; I couldn’t be waking up the neighbors with my screams of long awaited pleasure. Instead, I whispered them into his ear.

I had had plenty of hookups throughout college, most of them-if not all of them-meaningless and simply two lonely, somewhat drunk people getting bored and deciding there was nothing better to do. My meds had somewhat killed my sex drive, but where Gerard was concerned, I was, for lack of a better term, dripping with want. This was love: not just fucking. I decided to give him a break and we flipped over. I pushed him down onto his back, a satisfied, blissed out smile on his lips as I climbed on top, resituating myself.

“Oh, I guess I did get to ride you after all,” I murmured, throwing my head back as I took the feeling in. Our hips ground together; he was helping me keep rhythm with his slender hands on my waist.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” I opened one of my eyes to look down at him mischievously. If anybody was beautiful here, it was him. His heart shaped face was flushed pink with warmth, eyes alternating between closed in bliss, half opened with awe, or wide enough to take in the view. His hair was splayed in a halo around his head on my pillow and his mouth was either in an O shape or pressed together in a sly smile. He had barely a trace of chest hair save a happy trail down from his belly button, and the perfect amount of fat on him to make him comfortable to lie against and strong enough to hold me down when I asked him to.

“I know that  _ you’re _ beautiful,” I said. I had a permanent smile plastered to myself that made me feel quite unsexy, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Getting a year’s worth of sexual tension out in one night was going to be tough, but somebody had to do it. “I have handcuffs in the chest by my closet...if you’re into that,” I said quickly when he didn’t reply immediately. 

“Oh god, Charlotte,” he moaned, drawing out his vowels with his Jersey accent, sounding like ‘gaaaaawd’ instead. “It would be my honor to handcuff you.”

My stomach lurched in the best way possible when he said that, becoming oh so warm under my belly button. I leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the lips before untangling myself from him, slipping off the bed to root through my box of ‘adult’ business.

“Any blindfolds?” He called softly from my bed. I snorted.

“Am I that ugly?”

“You vixen, you know that’s not what I meant.” I grabbed the black nylon hand restraints and a red blindfold, dangling them in the air above his head.

“These good enough?” He sat up, slipping the blindfold over my eyes quickly.

“Oooh, these are more than good enough,” he purred quietly into my ear. I shivered from the goosebumps popping up along my skin. I felt him moving me around until I was once again with my back against my bed, the sheets sticking to my sweaty back. Gerard gently wrapped my hands in front of me, pulling me back up to my knees on the bed. Then, I didn’t feel him anymore.

“God, what are you doing?” I whined, wanting to feel his touch on me immediately.

“That’s the whole point of the blindfold, Charlie.” He was behind me now, near my headboard. Slowly, he traced a finger up the length of my spine. The lack of contact was making every single one of my senses scream. This was torture. I instinctively tried to reach back, but the velcro around my wrist restraints was not going to budge. “Be patient.”

Abandon all hope, the sirens in my head blared. “I love it when you tell me what to do.”

“I had the feeling you did, ever since the day I first stuffed that cigarette between those red lips of yours,” he was now using both his hands to trace the contours on my back, slowly working his way up to my neck. “How do you feel about biting?”

“As much and as hard as you can,” I panted, thinking back to that first day with him, driving me that much more crazy.

“Good, because I like to draw blood,” were the last words I heard before my vision exploded into euphoric light. He pressed himself up behind me, wrapping one of his hands around my chest and using the other to dip my head to one side. At first all I felt were his soft lips leaving me a trail of kisses, but those soon gave way to his teeth. We fell forward and he bit harder, deeper, until I was in danger of screaming, which I think he sensed.

So he inched his hand up from my neck to wrap around my mouth, his other one sneaking in between my thighs when I was least expecting it. I tried to tell him, I tried to let him know I was about to go over the edge and explode into a tangled mess of sex. I think he knew, and I think he liked keeping me locked in his arms while I squirmed, moaning into his hand. I felt something warm dripping from my neck which made my head spin; it wasn’t my fault I had a blood kink. He tipped my head back so he could look into my eyes. His were a mixture of lust and amusement, and he just nodded at me.

It was the best orgasm of my life. I couldn’t tell how long it lasted, and I honestly didn’t care because I was out of my mind. He let me drop softly back down onto my pillows, my chest heaving and my heart pounding. I felt like I was sinking into my mattress. I was so heavy and exhausted. He sat on my hips, looking down at me with a grin. I just gave him a thumbs up before panting, “let’s keep going.”

I think we were both pretty worn down after that escapade. Our foreheads were pressed up against each other’s as we kept the rhythm going. He had tossed my wrist restraints aside and I was instead running my hands through his damp hair, trying to keep it off his forehead. He gave me a quick whispered warning before he leaned back, letting his bliss overtake him. He collapsed down onto my chest abruptly, straining his neck to look at me.

“Oh.” Gerard struggled to breathe. “My god.”

I wriggled my arms out from under him to wipe my hair out of my eyes. “Seconded.”

“Holy fuck.”

He got up to toss the condom, then pulled me into the shower with him because, in his own words, “we need to wash the sin off ourselves.”

Most of what we did was make out and kiss each others necks and nip earlobes and drown ourselves in my vanilla body wash. We had both weak knees, so we ended up sitting in the bottom of the shower while the hot water poured over us. He reached out to trace the indentations of his teeth on my shoulder/neck.

“Wow. I really got you there. You’re going to need a hell of a good makeup brand to cover that up,” he said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh god don’t be, that was the best part. I like my sex how I like my coffee. Hot and covered in blood,” I looked up at him from between my bangs that were hanging in front of my eyes. He giggled.

“Weird, we have the same taste in coffee.”

We decided after a few more minutes that we weren’t going to keep wasting water just for making inappropriate bloody sex jokes. Soon enough, we were back in my bed, but it wasn’t awkward this time, and it wasn’t three in the morning. It was almost six. He was on his side, facing me, as he pulled me closer to him. I reached a hand over to run along his jawline slowly.

“You’re amazing,” I found myself saying in a daze as I gazed at his chiseled jaw, perfect cheekbones and small lopsided mouth. “You’re a work of art. We should be studying you in class instead.”

“Oh, hush. But,” he smiled, “flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Especially my bed,” I mused.

“I love...how comfy this bed is too.” I think he caught himself. I would have freaked out, but I was too tired to care.

“It’s making me sleepy.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the bed that’s making you sleepy.”

“Sorry, Gerard, you’re right. Your intense fucking you gave me is making me sleepy,” I said smartly.

“My fucking?” I shrugged at his question. Again, too tired to care. 

I was drifting off to sleep finally, but I remembered the last thing he said echoing into my head, following me into my dreams.

_ It’s not love if it’s just fucking. _


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish this chapter was longer but I've been putting off posting it, so here you go!

My head was pounding. I felt like that was my first thought every morning. Maybe I should quit drinking. I laughed internally at that.  _ No fucking way. _ Why was I so sweaty?  _ Oh my god _ .

Gerard was laying next to me, also stirring from his sleep. It took me a second to remember everything that had happened last night (the soreness in my neck helped a lot in that regard), and I think he went through the same mental rollercoaster. Instead of bolting for the door, he just gave me a small pleasant smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I yawned, sitting up in my bed. “Wow. It’s late. We slept in really late.”

Gerard also sat up, his eyes weary. “I have the slightest inkling as to why.” He traced once again over the blue and blackness that was sprouting on my neck. “Nice.”

“Oh man, is my neck sore.” I squeezed it, thinking I would massage it, but pain shot in all directions when I tried, resulting in a sound  _ yelp _ from me. Gerard regarded me with worry, but the grin on my lips quelled any doubts he had about whether or not I liked pain.

“Masochist,” he said softly.

“Sadist,” I shot back. He chuckled.

“Well, you’re not  _ wrong _ . I like the people I’m with to feel good. And if pain is their game then I’ll be their gain.” I considered that thought for a moment, nodding in agreement.

“Do you think Frank tried to get this to happen?” I asked.

“You bet your ass he did. That motherfucker.” Gerard scowled, then shook his head with a laugh. “Can’t say I’m complaining though. Are you? Do you regret it? Because if so-”

“Gerard. I don’t regret it. I enjoyed it. It’s something I’d like to do again sometime. Or all the time,” I said.

“Sometime or all the time, no in between?” He asked.

“I guess not,” I admitted. There was something I wanted to say to him, but I wasn’t sure if now was the right time. We were still basking in the glow of after-sex sleep, even if it was two in the afternoon.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asked, reaching out to comb my hair with his fingers.

“You.” He threw his head back with a hearty laugh.

“Don’t say that, that’s what got us into this mess last night!”

“So you think it’s a mess? A bad thing?” I began to stutter, my anxiety taking control. He thinks this was a drunk mistake and he doesn’t want anything to do with me besides sex. I’m nothing more to him. My mind was going a million miles a minute. I had to remind myself to try to take a deep breath, but it was something that was definitely not coming easy.

“Whoa, whoa, I never said bad, take some breaths in, Charlie, you’re fine, I’m here, you’re fine,” he leaned over to snake me into his arms, cooing softly into my hair. “I don’t think what happened last night was bad. Do you want to talk about it?”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Gerard I have strong feelings for you and I don’t want to be a hookup buddy. I want something more than that.” The hand that had been stroking my hair stopped, and I twisted in his embrace to look up at him, worried that I was going to be met with a stone wall of cold unfeeling rejection. Instead, he was just chewing on his lip with raised brows.

“Well, that’s a relief.” A relief? “Because I feel the same way.”

Coolness washed over my panicking body as he held me tight, and I struggled to contain the joy that was bubbling up from my chest. “Really?” I gripped his shirt, pulling him closer down towards me.

“Really.” Gerard said, leaning down to give me a slow, deep kiss. “Charlotte, I’ve been enamored by you from day one, as I’ve told you many times. I distanced myself and hurt you because I didn’t want to do that, hurt you. But I felt like I was in a lose-lose situation. I was looking out for you. I really like you. You are my muse.”

I curled into his chest, feeling elated. I hadn’t ever been a muse to anybody before, that I was aware of. It made me want to cry. But, I cried at everything because I was a mess of unmedicated emotions.

“Gerard, I’m a mess. I really am, and I also really like you. But I really am a handful, Anthony used to tell me that all the time-”

“Anthony is irrelevant and invalid now. He doesn’t matter. What he did to you does, of course, but he doesn’t seem to have a clue about how to be there for somebody you love. I may not be the best at it, but I want to try for you. If you’ll let me,” he said desperately. We were now sitting cross legged on my bed, facing each other. His hands were wrapped around mine and he was stroking the backs of mine with his palm. I felt so calm, but so worried at the same time.

“I feel like I’ve known you forever, so I’m trying to have a filter on the amount of crazy I let out. Because that’s what I’ve always done. I’m going to tell you things about me, things that go on in my mind, and you’re going to run screaming the opposite direction. You say you can handle it, but I’m so afraid. I don’t even know if this is the stuff I’m supposed to be saying so early when it comes to dating…” I motioned vaguely to us.

Gerard playing with my fingers for a while before speaking up. Just his presence itself calmed me. “Will you be my girlfriend? Wow, that sounds so childish. I don’t know how else to phrase it.” He scrunched his face up.

“It sounds perfect. And of course I will. I want nothing else,” I said, reaching up to cup the side of his face with my hand. He leaned into it and closed his eyes, a content smile spreading across his lips.

“I never thought I would hear those words from your mouth. Or mine, for that matter. I never thought we would be where we are. All it took was a year of incredible miscommunication and a lot of tears and coffee and breakfast and Frank being a dick and playing cupid.”

“Not that I’m complaining,” I smirked. Gerard nodded in agreement.

“You’re beautiful, complaining or not. You’re mine,” he seemed to just realize.

“And you’re mine.” He looked up, smiling. 

“You’re amazing. Let’s go get breakfast.”

 

We held hands. We held hands walking down the stairs, in the car, and in the restaurant. He wanted to show me off to the world. He was proud to be dating someone like me, scars and all. We were waiting on our pancakes and eggs when he grabbed my hands from the other side of the table.

“So. About this supposed craziness of yours. I’m crazy too. I promise you that. And I’ll tell you everything about me if it makes you feel better, and I’ll listen to everything you worry about forever. Whatever you want, Charlie,” he said quietly, but passionately. “I mean it, and I mean it so much.”

“In time. Right now, we can just pretend that I’m normal?” I said, my voice trailing off as he gave me a cautious glare. “I have a ton of scars.”

Gerard just nodded at that, squeezing my hand lovingly. “Everybody does. Even if you can’t see them.”

“I have a  _ ton _ of scars, Gerard,” I said, worried he wasn’t understanding the severity of the situation.

“I get what you’re saying Charlie. I’m sorry that happened to you. But you’re beautiful. You’re beautiful now, you were beautiful last night, and you have been stunning every single time I’ve ever drawn you.”

“Your turn,” I said. Gerard leaned back in the booth and side, twiddling his thumbs.

“Hmm, where to begin.”

As I sat across from Gerard, listening to him recount the various demons he had fought and-mostly-won, I decided that I was enamored. His black hair was curling into his eyes, dark circles underneath them, as he talked out of the side of his mouth. 

“Oh, and I talk like this because of nerve damage from a cavity filling years ago,” he said, probably nothing I wasn’t paying him complete attention because I couldn’t stop looking at him.

“I’m sorry. You’re just so pretty to look at.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to be uglier in the future,” Gerard smirked.

“I am just so tired.” I leaned forward and rested my forehead against the table. I could hardly think straight. It didn’t help that my mind was going a million miles a minute with thoughts like, _I can’t believe this is actually happening_ and, _Gerard actually is interested in me_. And he thinks I’m pretty. And he’s buying me breakfast. And he’s reaching across the table to run his fingers through my hair and telling me we can go back to his apartment and relax and eat pizza and watch movies all day. Nothing sounded more perfect to me than that.

Nothing was more perfect to me than him.


	17. Chapter 17

I couldn’t bring myself to tear myself away from him, but I dropped him off at his apartment so he could finally make it home after the crazy twenty four hours we had had together. He lingered by my driver’s window, kissing me again and again.

“You’re amazing. I’ll talk to you later. You’re incredible,” he kept saying between kisses on the cheek, chin, forehead, and lips. Eventually he made it to the door of his apartment building, and I smiled and blew a kiss into the air before driving away. He was still standing outside when I looked in my rear view mirror, his face a mixture of amazement, disbelief, and bliss. A smile was plastered on my face while I drove home.

Frank was sitting on the curb outside our apartment building when I pulled up. The cigarette between his lips dipped when a grin slowly spread across his face. I got out of my car and slowly made my way towards him.

“What are you so happy about?” I asked nonchalantly, sitting down next to him and lighting a cigarette of my own.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just a nice day I think. This cigarette tastes amazing, I don’t have anything to grade and...oh yeah, my two best friends finally fucked last night and got their shit together, I think that’s it.” Frank giggled at himself. I blushed, unable to help myself. “Yeah everybody in the complex heard you two last night.”

“NO! Oh my god, I tried extra hard to be quiet-”

“I’m just fucking with you, Gerard told me after I kept asking and asking today. Boy do I regret that, because he won’t shut up about you now,” he said wearily, wiggling his phone between his fingertips. My heart fluttered at the thought of Gerard gushing about me the way I gushed about him internally.

“Did you...was this your plan last night? I’m not saying I approve, I’m saying I’m not opposed to the way things worked out,” I admitted. Frank just looked off down the street, cigarette smoldering between his lips and nodding slowly. “You fucker.”

I decided to clean my whole apartment because it was kind of a disaster after last night’s shenanigans. During a break to check my school email, I grew worried when I still saw nothing from the campus’ work study office. I normally worked at the bookstore every semester to get some extra income for my rent (which my parents had been recently helping me out with), but they were yet to contact me for this school year. I was getting massive amounts of anxiety from waiting for their emails, and finally decided to pick up the phone and call them before I realized it was Saturday. I’d just have to go in on Monday.

I talked with my mom and got my flight booked for Christmas break in about two months’ time. I was excited to go home, but my heart sunk when I realized that Gerard would be with his family in New Jersey. I couldn’t exactly bring him home for the holidays and introduce him like, Hey this is my former professor whom I’ve lusted after for years, we fucked and now we’re dating, isn’t the eight year age gap great? But Gerard didn’t look thirty, he looked about the same age as me, twenty-two.

It was about six in the evening, and right on cue as I was thinking of him, Gerard called me. I felt stupid for feeling so full of butterflies when I answered. “Hey!”

“Hi.”

“How’s it going?” I asked, tapping my foot against the ground.

“It’s great. I was stepping outside to smoke and realized I hadn’t talked to you in a few hours and wanted to hear your beautiful voice.” I thought I was going to explode from happiness.

“Aw. Well, here’s my beautiful voice, panicking because I haven’t heard from my campus job supervisor,” I said, my worries dominating my thoughts.

“Shit. Do you normally hear from them by now?” He asked, concern evident in his tone.

“Yeah. And I just bought my plane ticket to go home in December so I’m really hoping they call me soon,”  _ otherwise I’ll be homeless _ , I added silently in my head.

“Oh yeah, you don’t live here. I don’t know why I keep thinking you live here.”

“So you’ll be in Jersey for Christmas?” I asked, hoping against hope he would say something ridiculous like,  _ No Charlotte, I’m going wherever you go even though we just started dating today. _

“Yep. Home for the holidays,” he sung into the phone. “I’ll miss you.”

“Well, we don’t need to be thinking about that yet,” I said quickly, wanting to change the subject. My phone beeped in the background of the call; I had a text from someone.

“So what are you up to tonight?” Gerard asked in a sing-song voice. I could just imagine his handsome face. I was making myself sick with how much I was thinking about him.

“I just finished cleaning and scouring my inbox for any news from campus I might have missed. My apartment was a fucking mess.”

“Whoops. I probably contributed to that  _ mess _ ,” he said with a small giggle.

“Maybe, but it’s more fun than making a mess alone.”

“I want to kiss you right now.”

“Do it.”

“But you’re not here!” He whined.

“Then stop complaining!” I laughed.

“Come over and watch movies with me,” he pleaded. I let out a heavy, comical sigh.

“Oh Gerard, but I’m just so busy on this Saturday night doing nothing and cleaning and talking to all of these boys, how can I ever make time for you?” I smiled, betraying my sarcasm.

“Come on,” he drawled. “I want to cuddle with you. I’ve wanted to cuddle with you for such a long time and now that I’m finally able to I can’t get enough of it.” I could just imagine him pouting on his balcony.

“I  _ guess _ ,” I groaned. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be over.”

“Nah, don’t get dressed, just wear your pajamas. We’ll have a PJ party.” He sounded like a little boy. I loved hi-IT. I loved it. 

“Okie dokie. I’ll see you soon, Gerard.” He made a kissing noise into the phone before hanging up. I rushed to the bathroom to fix my makeup and comb my hair, trying to look like less of an anxious wreck. I slipped into some boots and threw on a jacket before speeding over to his apartment a few streets away. I liked his neighborhood so much better. It was so much nicer. There’s no way I’d ever be able to afford an apartment here.

I barely knocked on his door before he wrenched it open, grabbing me and hauling me inside into a massive hug. “You couldn’t get here fast enough!” I couldn’t stop laughing as he threw me over his shoulder and collided into the couch, clambering on top of me. He was wearing red plaid pajama pants and a Metallica shirt, along with ridiculous black fuzzy socks. “Are you judging my socks?”

“I love your socks. I wish I had those socks. I just have plain socks. You make me look so bad Gerard, stop it!” I pouted, wriggling out from underneath him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I promise when I’m rich and we’re living in a condo on the beach I’ll buy you all the fuzzy socks you can wear, a new pair for every day,” he peppered my face and neck with kisses and I was uncontrollably laughing again. “I love your laugh.”

“I love  _ your _ laugh,” I said, rubbing noses with him. “We’re being so cliché and cutesy it’s making me sick. But I love it.”

“Me too. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before. You’re ridiculous, stop making me so happy Charlie,” Gerard poked me.

“Stop making me laugh so much and I’ll stop making you happy,” I promised.

“But you deserve to laugh.”

“I also deserve fuzzy socks.”

“HERE! TAKE THEM!” He peeled them off his feet and threw them at me.

“NASTY!” I threw them back at him. They fell into his lap after boucning off his face, a look of fake shock on it.

“I’m just trying to show you how much I love you! I’d give my fuzzy socks up for you!” His lower lip trembled but a smile was snaking up to the corner of his lips.

“You don’t love me,” I said automatically. We both froze mid-sock battle, sitting there awkwardly. I flashed back to the first time I had told Anthony I loved him, and that had been his response.

_ “Don’t say that, Charlotte. You don’t love me. That’s an overused term. Don’t say that.”  _

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” I said quickly, dread and regret creeping up through my chest. Gerard looked crestfallen but still strangely calm.

“But I do love you. I know it’s super soon to say that but I’ve loved you for a while.” He shrugged. I felt so shitty for making him feel awkward.

“It’s just, that’s what Anthony had said. That I didn’t love him. When I told him I did the first time. And I guess that’s just my automatic reply. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” I was fidgeting with one of his fuzzy black socks.

“If you love me, you’d stop picking apart my socks,” he joked. I smiled, tossing it back to him. He reached over and pulled me onto his lap, stroking my hair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to say it. Just know that’s how I feel about you. Take all the time in the world, because I’m not going anywhere.”

BUT I LOVE YOU TOO GERARD was what I was screaming inside of my head. Every time I tried to formulate those words, though, my mouth dried up and I felt bile rising in my throat. I was afraid, plain and simple.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Gerard cooed in my ear, planting a quick kiss on my earlobe.

“Sure,” I mumbled in a daze. The thoughts in my head were too loud right now. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, running his hands along my arms. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“You didn’t freak me out. I freaked me out,” I tried to joke, forcing a nervous laugh.

“Can I still tell you I love you?” He probed. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to.” I just nodded, looking up from his lap into his gleaming eyes. He was so happy. He was so in love. It both terrified me and made me feel like a whole human being again. He slid out from underneath me and got up to pop a zombie movie into the DVD player, killing the lights in his apartment.

“Oh god, now I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight,” I whined, half joking. Gerard just laughed. 

“Well, you can hold onto me. I promise to do my best to not turn into a zombie in the middle of the night,” he said once he had situated himself underneath me on the couch again. I leaned into his chest, resting my head under his chin. He smelled like bar soap and old cigarettes. He smelled like home.

By the time the movie was over, he was beginning to nod off.

“Have you eaten dinner?” He asked sleepily. It was about ten at night.

“Uhhh, not really,” I admitted. “But I’m not hungry, I’m fine.” He perked up, casting me a doubtful look.

“Yes, you are most definitely fine, but you need to eat something. I can’t let my lovely girlfriend waste away because of my neglective feeding.” He went to stand up but I held onto him, throwing all my weight into keeping him on the couch.

“I’m just so comfortable,” I mumbled into his lap. 

“I would stay like this forever, I really would, but we need to feed you and I really have to take a piss.” He kissed my forehead and I let him go, watching as he wandered into his kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, leaning down to scan all of the shelves. “We’ve got some leftover pizza, pasta...and I can cook something. Anything sound good?”

“Maybe in a little bit, let me wake up first,” I said, an idea forming in my head. “I feel like I need to work up an appetite,” I pondered, a fake air of innocence permeating my tone. I gazed off into the bedroom as if I was deep in thought, watching as Gerard straightened up and closed the refrigerator door.

“Well, I might be able to help with that,” he said quietly through a grin, picking me up into his arms.

“I could go on a run, hop on over to the gym…” I continued to muse. He strode over to his bedroom, laying me down on his bed. “Give me twenty minutes to go on a jog around the block.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said, climbing on top of me and nuzzling my neck with his lips. “Or….just hear me out, we could totally have sex.”

“Oh! I hadn’t even thought of that,” I said, my toes curling as he exhaled cool breath on my skin. “That sounds like a lot more fun.”

“I’d agree,” he said heavily before grabbing my wrists and hauling them above my head. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been busy with work and school and haven't been able to write as long of chapters as I'd like, but please comment and let me know what you think so far :)

I was in complete and utter bliss. I had woken up long after Gerard had: his side of his bed wasn’t warm anymore, but I heard him moving around in his studio. I almost leapt out of bed to jump on him, but I decided to stay curled up, nice and cozy, underneath the black down comforter he had. I rolled over to his side, breathing in the sweet smell of his hair. 

I couldn’t believe that I was actually there, in his bed, being his girlfriend. I woke up there. I spent the night there. And it wasn’t a drunk mistake, it was a very sober decision because apparently we liked each other. A lot. He loved me. I loved him, but I still hadn’t been able to say it, no matter how many times I had tried. It felt cliche to consider this even in the privacy of my own head, but I was just waiting for somebody to wake me up from this. Because everything was going great.

Well, mostly everything.

About a week after we started dating, I found out I hadn’t been rehired at the bookstore because of the fact I had dropped out of Gerard’s class way after the final drop deadline, getting an INCOMPLETE mark on my record forever. This counted as a fail to the work study system, so I wasn’t allowed to have my job back until I completed two semesters with no classes like that. By the time two semesters was over, I would have been graduated. I hadn’t really talked to Gerard about it, mostly because I was afraid he would get worried.

I was going out of my mind with anxiety about it. I’m no idiot, so I had some money saved up and every now and then my dad would give me some money because he missed providing for me...which seemed odd. Whenever him and I would talk on the phone, he would really make sure there was nothing I needed and just talked so much about how he missed when I was little and still under his roof. Those talks alone kept me up at night because it gave me reason to believe my dad was like terminally ill or really losing it. I fought to convince myself every night that it was just him missing me, especially since I was graduating with my Bachelor of Arts in the spring. Maybe it was just scary to him.

_ Or maybe somebody was dying _ .

Said the other part of my mind. I would bounce back and forth from one extreme to the other before curling up in the fetal position and just wishing the world would go away like the alcohol in the bottle I just drank. I wished I could drink my problems down. That would make everything so much better. I had been a little late with rent for the month of November, and my landlord was beginning to keep a closer on me when it came to stuff like that. I felt uneasy in my own apartment, as if I were somewhere I didn’t belong.

Thinking about all of this had me running my hands along the silk of Gerard’s pillowcase quickly. The static was sticking to my hand, giving me a shock every now and then, hurting in the smallest possible way. At least I was feeling something, because it felt like my world was collapsing. And the worst part? It wasn’t even that bad. I was just ill equipped to deal with being like an adult, which casued me to internalize a lot more self hatred which fueled the anxiety. I was in a circle of hate that I couldn’t break out of, even with Gerard around.

And with Gerard around, I couldn’t help but feel he had developed a seixth sense for when I was having a panic attack, because, before I knew it, the door to the studio cracked open and I saw his mop of dark, messy hair poke out.

“Hey, babydoll. How are you doing?” Gerard asked softly, shuffling over to sit next to me on the bed. He planted a soft kiss on my lips, looking down at me with concern. “You look upset.”

“I’m just thinking,” I muttered. I felt like a robot. Breathe in, breathe out. Blink. Say words. Feel the burning pain in my chest. Headache. Die. Die. Die.

“Oh honey, don’t do that,” he leaned across my body to wrap my in an awkward perpendicular-like hug. “Don’t think. What are you thinking about?”

“School,” I answered, only half lying.

“What about school? Is dating me making you nervous?” He asked as he clambered over to spoon me, running his hands up the back of my shirt so he could give me a light back scratch.

“‘S not you. Just worried.” He knew at this point to not press it any further and seemed to be content with giving me a massage of some sorts.

“I love you, you know,” Gerard whispered. I just smiled, some of the anxiety easing away with that. “I love you so much. And I know, whatever it is you’re worrying about, you’re stronger than it. And you’re beautiful. And I love you.”

I spun around so I could bury my face in his chest and warm up. He just wrapped me in his arms, humming something into my ears. 

“You slept late. It’s almost half past noon,” Gerard said, rocking me back and forth. I understood why babies stopped crying when they were rocked; it was calming as fuck.

“Well shit. I was tired.”

“Me too. I’m glad finals are over.” For a second I forgot he was a teacher and not a student, which made me laugh.

“Same. I hadn’t even remembered today was the first day of winter break…” I said, the smile slowly fading. If it was the first week of winter break, then that meant Gerard would be leaving for Jersey soon and I would be leaving for Los Angeles soon. “Oh no, I’m not going to see you for like three weeks!” I frowned.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I wish you could come with me. But you need to see your family. Someday you’ll meet mine, but they just have to live on the other side of the country, you know?” He tried to joke to make the situation more lighthearted, but I was still dreading it.

“When do you leave?” I asked. 

“Hm. About a week, I think. I’ve been putting off thinking about it,” Gerard admitted. “Because I don’t want to be away from you for such a long time. I’m going to miss your kisses and your hugs and you. All of you.”

“Don’t leave. Ever. Let’s stay in this bed and never leave and never deal with the outside world again. We’ll survive with fuzzy socks and wine and zombie movies and I’ll eventually be able to tell you those words and it will be beautiful, just like you,” I rambled.  

“That sounds amazing, Charlie,” Gerard kissed my cheek. “We can stay in bed today if you want, if that will make you feel better.”

“The concept is good, but it would fail in practice. How would we go to the bathroom? We would eventually start to stink. Where would we get the food from? We’d have to eventually change the sheets. It’s just not doable,” I sighed, looking downward into my lap. We were now both sitting up, facing each other.

“Then we can stay in and do nothing as long as you want. Anything you want. Because I love you.” Gerard grabbed my hands, putting them on both of his cheeks under his hands. He turned his face over in them, like a cat rubbing up against a person. “I love you.”

“I love you,” I said.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self harm implication

Gerard was staring off down the terminal, stroking the back of my hand with his fingertips. A look of concern was etched across his face.

“I wish I could come with you,” he said for the umpteenth time. He turned to glance over at me. 

“I know. I haven’t exactly told my parents that I’m dating you yet. Besides, you have your family to see, too,” I tried to convince myself this was a good thing. He just kept sitting there, bouncing his leg impatiently. “I really should go through security now. I only have like twenty minutes until I board.”

Gerard stood up with me, pulling me in for a long kiss. I was going to miss these. “It’s only for a few weeks. And I’ll be here the day before you so I’ll be waiting right on this bench when you get off that plane. Okay?” He lifted my chin up to look at him with his fingers. I nodded. “Kiss me again.”

He walked up to the security gate with me, pulling me in for another kiss. I was going to miss my flight if he kept this up. “Remember that I love you.”

“I love you too, Gerard,” I whispered. He pulled back, holding me at arm’s length for one last glance.

“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

I just shook my head. “I have to go though! I’m going to be late.”

“Call me when you land, please,” he begged, kissing my cheek. “I love you.”

I tore myself from him, his fingers giving my shoulders one last squeeze. He waited the whole time I walked through the security gate, and gave me a big smile and wave when I made it through the machines before turning down the terminal walkway.

I was really not looking forward to living with my parents for almost a month. I was excited to see Jordin, but my parents had been tense as of late. And I was already freaked out about still not having a job, and my savings were dwindling. I hadn’t told Gerard anything about my financial situation, because I didn’t want him to try and intervene or anything of the sort, as I assumed he would. But it was all I was thinking about-besides him-as the plane took off from the tarmac.

Jordin and my dad were waiting by the baggage claim when I landed, holding a sign with Charley Barley scrawled across it in pink highlighter. They pulled me into a tight hug.

“You guys are adorable,” I grumbled. My dad laughed as he took my duffel bag from my shoulders.

“How was the flight?” He asked, guiding me towards the parking lot with his hand on my back.

“Uneventful, which is never a bad thing.” I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see if Gerard had texted me. Three texts popped up from him when I switched my phone off of airplane mode.

“We waited to put the decorations on the tree until tonight because we know how much you love it,” Jordin teased, elbowing my arm. I groaned. My mom always made a big deal of Jordin and I decorating the tree, making us pose for pictures wrapped up in lights with stars on our head and ornaments dangling from our fingertips.

“Oh joy,” I said.

“Joy to the world, I think you mean,” my dad quipped. They laughed. It was good to be back around the Dad Jokes.

There were no Christmas lights on the trim of our house when we pulled up, and I asked my dad why. He shrugged. “I didn’t have the time or energy to really nail any up this year.” All of the lights in the house were off when he jiggled the key in the lock of the front door.

“Is mom not home?” I asked, peering through the front window. Jordin and dad didn’t answer immediately.

“I’ll go throw this up in your room,” Jordin grabbed my suitcase and hurried up the stairs. Dad just shuffled me inside the entryway, closing the heavy front door behind us.

“Where’s mom?” I asked again, frowning. My dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me to the couch on the left of the entryway.

“Charlie, there’s something I have to tell you. I couldn’t bring myself to do it over the phone.” My mind was going a million thoughts a minute.  _ Holy shit was my mom dead? WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME MY MOM DIED _ . “Your mom moved out a few months ago.”

“ _ Months _ ?” I stuttered, my breathing quickening. “Months ago? And you’re just now telling me? What happened? Why did nobody think this was important to let me know?” My face was growing hot and tears were pooling in the corners of my eyes. My dad looked stricken, holding his hands up.

“Look, honey, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted to come home to, but it is what it is. We’re going through a separation. I’m sorry. I really am,” he reached out to stroke my arm, and I let him. I couldn’t move. My blood felt like it had turned to molten lead, making me sweat and feel exhausted at the same time. I couldn’t believe this. “If you want to be alone for a while, that’s fine, just know that Jordin and I are here for you.” He got up to give me a hug, then moved to the kitchen to probably make some hot chocolate.

I didn’t notice Jordin sit down next to me.

“How you doing?” He said quietly, glancing over at me. I just threw my head back onto the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. Truth be told, I didn’t know how I was doing. I didn’t feel like I knew anything anymore. It was all I could do to shake me head ‘no’. “I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

“You’re sorry?! I’m sorry. You’ve been at home dealing with this alone, and you didn’t even feel like you could tell me. I’m such a shitty older sister-” I began to say, my voice rising in volume.

“We were just worried about how you would react, given your...you know,” his voice trailed off, making my blood boil.

“No, Jordin, I don’t know? My what? My problems? Afraid I’m going to go and kill myself?” I shot at him. He just looked ahead at the fireplace, lifting his feet to rest on the coffee table while he rode out my outburst. 

“Basically,” he admitted, his annoyance apparent. I couldn’t be around people. I got up, storming up the stairs to my room. Suddenly, I was no longer twenty-two. I was eight, mad at my parents for letting Jordin do the same things I did when I was the older sibling. I was nine, mad at Jordin for getting gum in my hair on my birthday. I was eleven, kicking and screaming all the way to my room when I found out my Hogwarts letter never came. I was fourteen, locking myself in the bathroom to try and pierce my ears. I was sixteen, hiding in my room after my mom found a condom wrapper in my backpack. I was eighteen, swaddled in blankets with puffy red eyes while my mom brought me tea the third time Anthony broke up with me.

But this time, I was twenty-two, running from the world to dive into my childhood room because I was heartbroken that my parents were getting a divorce, had been separated, all without anybody mentioning it to me because I apparently was so damn volatile. I proved my assumptions right when I slammed the door shut behind me, causing an old picture on my wall to come crashing towards the floor. 

And so my mom just wasn’t going to even show up to get me from the airport? So she wasn’t going to say anything, just leave Jordin and my dad to pick up the pieces? My phone began buzzing from my purse that Jordin had left on the edge of my bed. It was her.

“What.” I breathed into the phone, trying to cut through her with my tone.

“Well, hello to you too,” she said, as if she had no idea why I would be upset. “I heard you got in, and I just wanted to call and see how you were doing.”

“How the fuck do you think I’m doing, mom?” I spat.

“Don’t you talk to me like that. Just because you think you’re all grown up now-”

“And you obviously don’t think I am, because you can’t be bothered to, you know, keep me up to date with important things like the fact that you left my dad?” I shrieked. It felt weird to be calling him ‘my dad’ to her. It made her feel like the enemy.

“Oh, don’t you turn this on me. We all know you can’t handle yourself when anything goes wrong,” she hissed.

“Yeah mom, I guess you’re right. Guess I’ll just go grab a razor and drink myself to death. Sounds good, mom, thanks, mom.” I hung up on her. She didn’t call me back. That had been too harsh, and even I could admit that. But I wasn’t exactly feeling rational. As if it were possible, my heart sank even lower when I realized I hadn’t called Gerard since I had landed. I quickly dialed him, some of my anxiety quelling when I heard his voice exclaim my name.

“I was beginning to get worried,” he said. “I’m so happy you made it!”

“Hey, yeah, I made it. I’m sorry, some shit went down and I wasn’t able to call you sooner,” I said after clearing my throat, trying to not sound like I had just been crying.

“Charlotte, what’s wrong?” Gerard’s voice had an edge to it. I didn’t know how to answer that question, I didn’t know what to say to him. I couldn’t even really think about it without starting to cry. “Charlotte, talk to me. Say something.”

I cleared my throat again, trying to take a deep breath. “My mom...moved out,” I finally forced out of my throat, a few stray tears leaking out of my eyes.

“Oh my fucking god. Oh my god, Charlotte, I’m so sorry, I wish I was there right now-”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’m just, I think I’m just going to go to bed early tonight.” I wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk to anybody, even Gerard, as shitty as that sounded. I could hear him sighing, struggling to formulate words.

“I just-please don’t...just be...safe,” he finally said. I could tell he was trying to avoid certain words.

“I’ll text you later, okay?” I said quietly.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I really love you,” he said desperately. “So much.”

“I know. I’m going to shower.” I said. 

“Goodnight. I love you.”

I had to hang up. I could listen to him tell me that all day and all night long, and all it would do would make me sad. I threw my phone on the ground, sinking back onto my bed again. Twenty eight years. My parents had been together for twenty eight years. A soft knock on my door startled me. I didn’t say anything.

Jordin cracked my door open, letting himself in. “Did I hear you say you loved someone?” He hopped next to me on my bed, kicking his slippered feet into the air. Despite all of the shitty things I was feeling, I couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s not Anthony, don’t worry,” I reassured him.

“Then who is it?” He batted his eyelashes at me like the jackass he was. I rolled over onto my own stomach, grinning into my comforter. “Oh shit, you really like him.”

“His name is Gerard. He was my art professor last year. He’s amazing,” I said, glancing at Jordin through my arms. He put a hand up to his mouth.

“Ohhhhh, girl...how old is he?” 

“He’s twenty nine. He’s going to be thirty in a few months,” I groaned. “The age difference sounds so much worse when I say it out loud.”

“Is he hot?”

“Definitely.”

“Do you have any pictures?” I laughed, fishing around on the floor for my phone to show him. I had a few of Gerard; some I had taken while he wasn’t looking and drawing in his studio, others were of us on a hike, bundled up by the pier, hanging out in a bar with Frank. Jordin pointed to Frank. “Who the hell is that?”

“That’s my new art professor, Frank,” I said, eyeing Jordin. “Why?”

“He looks cool,” Jordin said, rolling his eyes with a smile.

We hung out in my room, talking for a while. I finally had to ask. “Why did mom leave?” I wanted to know whose fault it was. Everything became easier when you knew who exactly to be mad at. Jordin sighed, flipping through my pictures of Gerard and me on my phone again.

“Mom met somebody else,” he finally admitted. My heart was weighing itself down in my chest, tearing through my flesh until I felt raw on the inside.

“I can’t believe it.”

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

I decided to text Gerard before crawling into bed. Told him that my little brother approved of us and how I thought he had the hots for Frank. Gerard replied with a picture of him and Frank at the airport having a beer before Gerard flew off to Jersey on a red-eye. He told me he loved me.

 

**To Gerard, 10:42 PM**

**If you loved me, you’d be kissing me right now </3**

 

He sent back a picture of Frank kissing him on the cheek.

 

**From Gerard, 10:44 PM**

**[IMG ATTACH, 232 KB]**

**I’m pretending he’s you <3**

 

**To Gerard, 10:46 PM**

**God dammit. Don’t leave me for Frank.**

 

**From FRANK, 10:47 PM**

**BACK OFF MY BF, BITCH**

 

**From Gerard, 10:48 PM**

**He’s drunk.**

 

**From Gerard, 10:49 PM**

**And I love you.**


	20. You Are My Moon, You Are My Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas tiiiiime, is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self harm/alcohol abuse

I didn’t talk to my mom for the first week or so that I was back home. In fact, I actively avoided her. She sent me some texts which Jordin tried to get me to respond to, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her. I couldn’t believe she had just thrown my dad away after almost thirty years. 

On the other hand, when Gerard and I weren’t on the phone we were exchanging an unending stream of texts to each other. I couldn’t get enough of him. He was a godsend right now while I was sitting in my childhood room clutching a bottle of half gone whiskey, staring blankly at my laptop screen. It was a little past five in the evening and I was on my side on my bed, feeling dead. My heart was beating so slowly, but so heavily. I was barely breathing. I hadn’t gotten out of bed all day and was just really hoping that my dad and Jordin would leave me alone and not knock on my door.

I couldn’t help but worry that I was ruining Christmas but I comforted myself by realizing my mom had already done that. As if on cue, my phone started ringing. I shook myself out of my sedated stupor to reach to my nightstand to grab it, expecting it to be Gerard. It wasn’t.

“What,” I said slowly. I heard my mom scoff in the background before replying.

“Hello, Charlotte. I haven’t heard from you since you got back and was just calling to see how you were doing,” she said.

“I’m fine. Fuckin’ tired.”

“Are you drunk?” I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, and I didn’t really care.

“What makes you say that?” I spat. My tongue felt tied up in my mouth, twisted around my teeth and making it hard to breathe. That was probably normal.

“Jesus Christ, Charlotte, am I ever going to be able to have a conversation with you sober? Or a conversation at all?” My mom asked, and I felt something fracture in my heart. As mad as I was at her, she was my mom, and hearing her say that cut, but my sadness quickly turned to anger.

“Yeah, probably not, mom, that tends to happen when you fuck your children up irreparably.”

“Call me back when you decide to be less of a bitch.”

“Talk to you never.”

She hung up and I tossed my phone off to my side. Didn’t care if it was cliche. Didn’t care if I never talked to her again. Just wanted to stop thinking. Wanted to stop feeling. I pinched my nose and drained the rest of the alcohol. My chest fucking burned and I rooted around blindly in my nightstand drawer. My room was exactly like I had left it years ago, and my blades were still there. I popped the case open, pinching one between my fingers. My shoulders started shaking with laughter. I didn’t know why.

I didn’t know anything, except how good it felt to feel my blood dripping down my forearm and onto the dark carpet underneath my bed. I let my arm dangle, increasing the blood flow. At least it was cold enough so I didn’t need to worry about wearing short sleeves. 

I wasn’t thinking about Gerard when he called me. I didn’t even want to pick up the phone. I glanced over at the screen, a picture of me kissing him on the cheek as he smiled into the camera. He had such a pretty smile, with his tiny little teeth. I loved him so much. My phone kept pulsing with vibration, but I didn’t pick up in time. I didn’t want to get blood on my sheets, so I just let it go to voicemail. 

_ I should call him back _ , I thought. I really should. I shouldn’t ignore him. I just wasn’t sure if I could talk coherently currently. But I did it.

“Hey, I just tried calling you,” he said after picking up the call. “What’s up?”

“Heeeeeey. I was. I was talking to my fucking mom. T’was super, super bad,” I enunciated. Or, I thought I did. 

“Oh. That’s shitty, I’m sorry,” Gerard said quietly. “What are you doing?”

“ _ Lissssten _ . I’m not really feeling well. I don’t know if...know if…” my eyes widened as I felt something creeping up my stomach.  _ Oh my god I was going to throw up. _ I dropped my cellphone and leaned over the bed, vomiting onto my carpet. Eventually I was just dry heaving after emptying the contents of my stomach. I heard Gerard shouting on the phone, probably wondering what I was doing. I snatched my phone and went to the bathroom to wash my mouth out, putting the phone up against my face again.

“Charlotte what the fuck just happened,” Gerard hissed. 

“I just threw up,” I admitted.  _ Wow _ I felt a lot better. 

“What else happened?” The edge to his voice was scaring me. It was like he knew what I had done. Immediately, self hating thoughts flooded my head. He would be so upset. I couldn’t tell him. But if I didn’t tell him I would be lying to him. “Charlotte.”

“I’m sorry!” I sobbed, wanting to throw up again. At least this time I was in the bathroom. I heaved into the toilet, knocking my head on the counter on the way down. “Gerard, I want to die.”

“Charlotte, don’t say things like that. Don’t. Are you safe right now?” He asked, his voice strained.

“I’m sitting...in my fucking bathroom. Covered in...blood.” I drawled. I heard him mutter something. I was such a fuck up. “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop repeating that.

“Is your dad or Jordin home right now?”

“Probably. I don’t fucking  _ know _ . I’ve been in my room all daaaaay.”

“Great. Just great. Okay. Okay. I need you to do something for me Charlotte.”

“What.”

“I need you to get out of the bathroom and give the phone to your brother, please. Please.” Gerard was pleading. My heart was breaking.

“Why?” I narrowed my eyes, leaning against the counter to get to my feet.

“I need to talk to him about something. Can you do this one thing for me, Charlotte? I love you. Please?”

The door to my room rebounded off the hallway wall with a loud  _ bang _ . 

“JORDIN,” I said, staggering two doors down to his room. He peeked his head around the corner of his door, eyes widening with horror when he saw me. I had pulled a jacket over my torso so he wouldn’t see the blood, but I’m sure I looked like a mess. 

“Charlotte what the fuck-” I didn’t say anything to Jordin, just shoved my phone in his direction. He eyed me wearily before reaching out to take it, holding it up to his ear. “Who is this?”

I leaned against the hallway, panting. I did what Gerard wanted. That’s all I needed to do. I sunk down to a sitting position, ignoring my dad when he walked up the stairs and into the fiasco. I just stared at the ground between my knees, listening to Jordin talk to Gerard. Probably about me. I had a migraine and everything was echoing and blurry. Whenever I moved my head, it was like my body was struggling to keep up. I heard my phone  _ beep _ when Jordin hung up the call.

That was the last sound I remembered before I careened over onto my side, hitting my head against the ground.  _ Pain. Pain. Darkness. _

 

* * *

 

I was sweating. My armpits were sticking, my bangs were plastered to my forehead. I couldn’t take a whole breath in. I began to panic, starting to breath faster. I was going to suffocate, wherever I was, in this cocoon of heat. I twisted around under the blankets, trying to wipe the sweat off my forehead. Finally, I opened my eyes. Jordin was sitting in my armchair. I was in my room. He was looking at me. My mouth was so dry.

“Holy shit, I have the worst headache,” I croaked. He just handed me a glass of water. I was just trying to remember what we had been talking about earlier. My arm was sore. There was a bump on the back of my head.

“Me too,” Jordin said wearily, and I couldn’t tell if he was glaring at me or if I was just having a hard time seeing.

“Did you talk to Gerard last night? I think he wanted to talk to you? Did I give you my phone?” I asked, letting out a long sigh.

“Yes, I talked to Gerard. It was a very fun first conversation, Charlie.”

“Really?”

“No, it was fucking terrible. Do you not remember anything?” Jordin’s voice rose in spite of his obvious attempt to control himself. “Anyway, thanks to Gerard, you’re not dying right now.”

“Why?” I wasn’t sure what I was asking why to. I just wanted to go back to sleep. “Can I just be alone? I Just. I want to sleep.”

“You’re not going back to sleep. It’s Christmas Day.” My head spun. It was Christmas Day? Had it been Christmas Eve yesterday? What?

“No it’s not,” I said.

“Yes, it is. And Gerard is blowing up both of our phones because he's so worried about you. I'm afraid he's going to have an aneurysm.”

_ Shit. I needed to call him. _

“I'm sorry. Mom called me last night,” I tried to explain. Jordin just nodded.

“I know. She called me and tried talking about it but there was more important shit to do, like making sure you didn't fucking die.” Jordin looked so tired. And it was all my fault.

“I'm sorry.” We sat in silence after I apologized. My phone started ringing, and Jordin handed it to me after looking at the screen.

“You should probably answer that,” he said, standing up. “I'm going to go take a nap.”

I answered the call, taking a shaky breath before apologizing.

“Charlotte stop. First off, I love you. Second off, I’m going to talk and I need you to not interrupt me,” Gerard wasted no time in cutting me off. My heart was pounding in my chest. He was breaking up with me. This was it. This was over.

“Okay,” I mumbled, ready to start crying again.

“I love you. You are one of the single most important things to ever happen to me. I’m so happy I met you and gave you that cigarette that day. I’m so grateful that I wasn’t your professor this last semester so we could actually get to know each other better. I love you. And I don’t care if you think me saying that again and again diminishes its meaning, because I think it all the time. I love you. And you need to go to therapy. You need to get better. You’re sick. And I love you, and I will be here every step of the way-”

“Oh my fucking god, I go to therapy, okay? When will people believe me when I say that?” I fired back, instantly regretting my sharp tone with Gerard. I just heard him sigh.

“Having a prescription and emailing an RN in the mental health office at campus once in awhile doesn’t count as going to therapy. You need a structured plan to get better. Charlotte, I don’t want you to die. I want you to be here with me for a long time,” Gerard continued softly yet firmly. Deep down, I knew he was right.

“I love you,” I said, my voice wavering.

“I love you and you’re all I’m thinking about right now.”

“Are you in Jersey?” I asked, feeling bad that we were just talking about me and my stupid decisions.

“Yep, I am. It’s cold here. A lot colder than California. Hold on one second, Charlie,” I heard some muffled voices, then laughter. “Sorry, Mikey was trying to talk to me. But we’re all here. And I love you.”

“Maybe someday I’ll meet him,” I said.  _ If I wasn’t dead first _ . That was so stupid of me to think. But I felt like I was being told to see the big picture then told to look out of a straw. “I’m sorry to ruin your Christmas.”

“You didn’t ruin my Christmas, you saved it. If you didn’t give the phone to Jordin, maybe you would have ruined it. But the important thing is you are going to get help and I will always be here for you, because I love you.”

“Gerard Way, you are the love of my life and I miss you so much,” I couldn’t help but sniffle. 

“Charlie honey, you are amazing and I’m never going to tell you that too much. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? We’re sitting down to dinner, and we all wish you were here,” Gerard said. My heart fluttered a little. His family knew about me? His family wanted to meet me? Somebody cared. We hung up and I just laid in my silent room for a while. I needed to get up and get dressed and try to be normal for my dad and Jordin. I didn’t need to be their burden, they were having a hard enough time as it was.

Frank was texting me to have a merry Christmas. I think Gerard had let him know something had happened and he was peppering me with funny pictures he found on the internet, or some inappropriate jokes he read, trying to get me laugh. I got up, pulled on some clothes, did my makeup, and tried to bring some life into my face. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror, my skin stretching uncomfortably around my chapped lips. I felt like a doll. I didn’t feel real.

“Well hello beautiful!” My dad called from the couch as I walked down the stairs. “Look who’s finally awake!” He rose up to give me a hug.

“I love you dad,” I said stiffly. Even though it was only him and me in the living room, I felt a million eyes on me. I felt like I was responsible for the shit this family was going through.

“You are so precious to me Charlotte,” My dad said before giving me a kiss on the top of my head. Jordin seemed to be up in his room, so my dad and I sat down to watch the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. He made me some hot chocolate, and I talked to Gerard again during it because he wanted to know how I was doing. My dad managed to wriggle the phone out of my grasp despite my joking attempts at stopping him, but my dad insisted on speaking to “this mysterious Gerard I’ve heard so little about but have talked to so much.”

The laughter coming from my dad, and also my phone speaker, was enough to quell my doubts and warm my heart a little bit. It was Christmas. I hadn’t ruined Christmas, I had to keep telling myself again and again. I hadn’t ruined it, I hadn’t really saved it either, but it would get better. It had to.

Because God knew it certainly couldn’t get any worse from the night before.


	21. Chapter 21

It was December 27th, and I was waiting in a doctor’s office with Jordin. He had driven me to my crisis therapy appointment that my dad and Gerard had set up for me the day before. I was freaking the fuck out, to put it lightly. Not only because my family was now directly involved in my mental illness, not only because I felt like I had ruined Christmas for them despite their constant reassurances that all they wanted was for me to feel better, but also because this was their first interaction with Gerard through it all. At least my dad seemed to like him. 

In fact, he wouldn’t really shut up about him. The whole time he was telling me about the appointment they set up, he was just wondering why I hadn’t told them about Gerard sooner.

“He was my professor, dad,” I explained, exasperated. “And we just sorted everything out.”

Gerard found it amusing, and also loved my dad. “I’ve only ever heard you talk about your mom before, your dad is great. And your brother loves you so much. Man, you guys are just adorable,” he had said to me on the phone while Jordin was driving me to the psychiatrist.

“Adorable. Now I get to meet your family next,” I added on. Gerard just laughed in the background.

“Looks like we have to take another trip to New Jersey when summer comes around.”

“Looks like it.” Jordin parked the car, glancing over at me with raised eyebrows.  “I have to go to my appointment, Gerard.”

“I’m so proud of you! Remember that I love you,” he said quickly before I had to hang up.

“Was that Gerard?” Jordin asked me while we walked through the front doors to the lobby. I nodded. “He’s pretty cool. He seems to really like you. I’m glad you finally found someone who isn’t a complete dickhead. Was he the one you were telling me about last year?”

“Yeah. It was a lot more complicated last year, but now he’s not teaching me anymore. It’s just...good,” I said, blushing. I couldn’t talk about Gerard without feeling like I was going to explode with happiness. And it was embarrassing. When I had been dating Anthony, I’d always been met with sighs and shaken heads when I tried to say good things about him. Because he was an abusive asshole.

“As long as it’s good. I’m going to wait out here.” Jordin walked me to the waiting room and I checked in, getting pulled into the back offices almost immediately after I sat down. The walls were bleached white and the carpeting was an obnoxious blue. My senses were being assaulted, but in a diluted way. I hadn’t been in a clinical setting like this in years, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be back. I pulled my phone out to send Gerard a panicked text, but I had no reception, which caused me to panic even more.

“So we’re just going to ask you some questions because we haven’t seen you in a while and we received some worrying news from your family and partner. We want to make sure you’re okay,” the doctor leading me to a room explained, peeking over her shoulder at me with a warm smile.  _ Partner _ . That was such a weird concept, to think of Gerard as my partner. But I loved it.

“How long is this appointment going to last?” I asked.

“That depends on the prognosis we decide on.” That didn’t sound good. She sat across from me behind a large wooden desk, folding her hands on her stomach and looking at me again with that warm smile. I was beginning to think it wasn’t warm at all, just plastic. “So. I need you to be as honest with me as possible. Don’t keep things from me, I’m here to help you, and I can’t do that unless you tell me everything.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day was a blur. Apparently I had said too much, or I had said the wrong things. The entire ambulance ride, I was wondering what I could have said differently to avoid the mess I was in. Maybe I would have been snug at home, relaxing on the couch with Gerard on the phone. But instead I was being hospitalized.

This was the final notch in the pole of ‘crazy’ I had carried with me my entire life. Being admitted was the end. The psychiatrist with the Barbie smiled had determined that I was a threat to myself and/or others and that I needed to be placed into the care of the emergency room. I’d like to say that I agreed and signed the papers voluntarily, but that wasn’t the case.

It was the morning of December 28th. The room I was in felt sterile, and I was buried under a mound of blankets. My head was throbbing, and my eyelids felt too heavy to open. I had to have been sedated. There was no IV in my arm, which I was grateful for because I had no tolerance for needles. I tried to sit up, feeling sore and stiff. I must have slept curled up in the fetal position, because my left side and neck was killing me. I almost screamed when he moved in the chair next to me.

I jumped out of the bed straight into his arms, covering his face with kisses. “Oh my god, oh my god,” I breathed, not believing he was here. Despite the somber look on his face, Gerard couldn’t stop smiling.

“I love you,” he whispered, stopping my speech with a long kiss. I closed my eyes, completely blissed out, curling into his lap even further.

“Why are you here?” I blurted out after he pulled away. He rolled his eyes.

“Charlotte, you’re in the hospital. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I missed you.

“You should be with your family.” Apparently I didn’t just stop at ruining a single family’s Christmas, I had to ruin the Way family’s Christmas too. He placed another kiss on my lips.

“They’re fine. We had a small Christmas. They understand I’m an adult with responsibilities.” When he said that, I felt stupid. Like I was his responsibility. 

“I’m sorry that you feel responsible for me,” I said. My head was starting to spin, and I closed my eyes, trying to stop the room from tossing me around.

“You need to lie back down,” Gerard helped me back into bed, kissing me on the forehead before perching on the corner of the bed, running his hand up and down my shin. He looked tired. There were traces of bags under his eyes and his hair was a disheveled mess. He was wearing a hoodie, sweatpants, and converse with his leather book bag slung over his shoulder still. “I’m going to be here as long as you want me.” He sat back down in the chair next to my bed, pulling out a notebook.

“Where are you staying?” I asked, my speech slurring as I started to feel sleepy again.

“I have a hotel room downtown but your dad is insisting I stay in your spare bedroom. We’ll see.” Gerard shot me a wink and my heart threatened to shoot through my chest. 

“You’re so hot,” I said quietly. He looked up from his notes, most likely plans for his next semester’s classes, as red spread slowly through his cheeks.

“It’s because of all of these layers I’m wearing,” he stuck his arms out and gestured at himself. I shook my head.

“No, it’s because you’re fucking attractive.”  _ Damn, how long had it been since we had sex? _

He just stared down at his paper, a smile on his lips and a frustrated expression on his face. “You’re making this hard on me.”

“I bet,” I winked, turning over from my back to be on my side so I could get a better look at him squirming in his seat.

“Well, you just have to get out of here so I can take you back home and romance the shit out of you, how about that?” Gerard said, swallowing and crossing his legs. 

“Gerard, I’ve probably already been evicted from my apartment,” I admitted, the word ‘home’ stirring up my memories. I had to start being completely honest with him. To my surprise, he just shrugged.

“Then you’ll just have to stay with me until we can figure something else out, or until you get tired of me and leave me for this attractive young man coming in here to talk to you,” his eyes were following somebody walk towards us. I giggled. The idea of Gerard being jealous of somebody because of me was out of this world. Gerard was leagues above me; there’s no way I would ever leave him.

“Shut up,” I said before said nurse walked into my room, holding a clipboard.

“Dr. Breda can see you now. We’re going to do an evaluation on you to see how long we’re going to keep you in here for,” he explained, coming to my bedside to help me out. Gerard rose to his feet, grabbing my hand.

“We’ll follow you,” Gerard smiled at the nurse, glaring at me after his back was turned. I slipped into my moccasins (which they had thankfully let me keep apparently) and wrapped my arm around Gerard’s. It felt so good to be around him again. I wanted to go home and just spend all my time in his arms.

And that’s exactly what I told the doctor. I’d like to say I didn’t beg her, but I suppose I kind of did. She considered it, called my dad to see what he thought since he was on my medical release forms, and before I knew it, I was back in my own clothes and walking towards the car with Gerard.

“I can’t believe they let me out today. I mean, I’m happy about it, but I’ve just heard so many horror stories about people being kept in there the rest of their life,” I babbled nervously as we drove back to my house. Gerard’s hand was firmly wrapped around mine, his eyes on the road.

“Well then, that’s good news for you. And we’ll work on getting you better so you don’t ever have to go back again.”

“I’m so happy you’re here. It’s embarrassing how much I missed you.”

“I probably missed you more. Every other sentence I said began with your name. My family knows more about you than you do,” he smiled over at me. My insides quaked. Anthony’s family had been...interesting. They’d just been happy that Anthony had finally found someone who wasn’t a crack whore or cheerleader. With Gerard and his family, the standards felt a lot higher.

“That’s a horrifying notion,” I said sarcastically. “So you’ve met my dad then?”

“Yep. And he’s just as amazing as he says he is.”

“I can’t believe I wasn’t even there for that. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for all of this. I can’t believe you flew all the way across the country early and your family probably thinks I’m insane-”

“I didn’t tell anybody about why I came back early. They didn’t need to know. And it was only a few days. It isn’t a big deal. What is a big deal is the fact that you’re okay, and the fact that we’re going to get you started in some regular therapy to keep you that way. Because I love you.” I could tell Gerard was nervous, bringing the idea of therapy up. I knew it was just because he cared, but I wasn’t ready to think about that.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now. Maybe tomorrow? I’m tired, Gerard,” I whined. He nodded.

“As long as we talk about it before we head back.”

My dad and Jordin wrapped me in a long hug when we got back. My dad jokingly introduced himself to Gerard again since I had complained about not being there when they first met. I loved my dad. 

Thankfully, Gerard did decide to stay with me and cancelled his hotel reservation. He hadn’t been sure what my dad would think of him staying with us, but things had gone smoothly, thank god. After I took a quick shower, we cuddled up on my bed and switched the television on to watch some mindless television.  I wasn’t able to pay attention to anything besides Gerard: the feathery way his hair was sticking out, even after he got it trimmed, how solid yet soft he was when he wrapped me in his arms, the smell of cigarettes and vanilla that always seemed to follow him around. 

He looked down at me during what felt like our hundredth episode of American Dad and smiled, pulling me close under his chin. “I was so worried about you. I’m glad you’re okay. I want you to know that you can tell me anything, Charlie. Charlie Barley.”

I smiled into his chest. “That’s what my dad calls me.”

“I know, I heard. It’s adorable. And so are you,” he said quietly, lifting my chin up to kiss me. Now was my chance. I leaned up into the kiss, prying his mouth open with my tongue. He seemed to get the idea, gentling settling me on top of him. He was careful to avoid the wounds on my arm. I was too wound up to care about that, though.

Gerard swirled his fingers through my still damp hair, trying to get as close to me as possible. I leaned back to throw my shirt to the corner of the room, and he did the same with his. Soon, we were in just our underwear, moaning expletives in each other’s ears and mouths.

“I don’t have any blindfolds or handcuffs here. Can’t say teenage me exactly needed those,” I joke. Gerard just laughed.

“That’s okay. I feel like taking it slow and sweet tonight anyway.” He pecked me on the lips, his long hair brushing my face as he bent over me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“That’s fine with me,” I said as I wriggled out of my underwear. He slipped out of his boxers, settling back in between my legs, and simply looked down at me with a gleam in his chocolatey hazel eyes. “What?”

“You’re so beautiful. Everything about you,” Gerard muttered, tracing one finger down from his hold on my shoulder, dipping into my collar bone and between my breasts, making me shudder at how light his touch was. I snagged his finger and placed it between my lips, sucking lightly. I watched as his eyes darkened, and suddenly his mouth was back on mine, pushing me back down onto my pillow. He dragged his mouth from mine to my jaw, ending up at my neck where he skimmed his teeth along my skin.

“You’re killing me,” I breathed. Gerard pulled back, leaning on his heels.

“Now, that’s the last thing we want, Charlotte. Looks like we have to put our clothes back on-” I grabbed his biceps and pulled him back to me.

“Stop.” I felt like I was going to die unless we fucked, and he could tell. And he was enjoying it. “You’re a piece of work.”

“Not as breathtaking as you, though,” he whispered, nibbling on my ear.

“Please, Gerard,” I begged, unable to take anymore lest I go insane. He smirked, giving me a quick kiss on my lips.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

Even though I couldn’t recall how long it had been since we’d had sex, it felt like ages. Luckily I didn’t have a spring mattress, so all that could be heard were the soft moans and grunts coming from both of us, and we tried to keep it down. I was mid moan on my stomach when Gerard snaked a hand around my mouth, leaning up to whisper in my ear.

“You keep making noises like that and I’m going to be done for in seconds,” he pleaded. “Also, I don’t want to get kicked out of your house.” I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, and neither could Gerard. I reached up and inched his hand off my mouth and lower until it was situated around my throat, giving it an encouraging squeeze.  _ It could still be slow and sweet if he was choking me, right? _ Who was I kidding.

He obliged me, lifting my head up so I was arched like a cobra yoga pose. One hand around my neck, the other one inching down my front between my thighs; I was in heaven.

“Fuck, I’m-” I started to say, but was cut off by Gerard cursing under his breath too. 

“I fucking love you,” he hissed in between erratic breaths. He sunk lower on my back, releasing my throat and wrapping his arms around my chest as I lost control myself. I bit down on the pillow closest to me to avoid letting everybody in the neighborhood know that my boyfriend had just given me the best orgasm of my life. My arms wobbled and I had to stop holding myself up, resulting in Gerard and I collapsing in a heap on top of my sheets, sticking together with sweat.

For a few minutes, all that could be heard was the sound of us trying to regulate our breathing, peeling ourselves apart and covering the other with kisses. After staggering to my bathroom to splash water on my face, we climbed under my sheets again. Gerard combed his hair out of his eyes, mopping up the extra sweat on his brow with his tee shirt.

“You’re amazing,” I said, watching him still struggle to breathe normally. His eyes flicked down from the television to gaze into mine, crinkling at the corners.

“And I love you.”


	22. Chapter 22

I woke up in the middle of the night, rolling over into Gerard. I had forgotten I wasn’t in the hospital anymore, and it took me a few seconds to even remember that it was Gerard was next to me. I smiled, wrapping my arms around his torso and cuddling in tighter. He stirred, grunting something unintelligible and I just kissed the back of his neck, nuzzling his hair.

“I love...you,” he whispered. I squealed. I couldn’t believe how adorable he was.

“I love you,” I said back.

“I’m so glad that you’re,” he sighed in the middle of his sentence, “okay. I was so. Worried.” I think he was somewhere in between the realm of consciousness and unconsciousness and he seemed to have lost all sense of a filter. I pulled him closer to me and he made a content noise, somewhere in between a hum and a sigh. “I did something right somewhere to find you.”

It took everything in me to not squeal and scream about how amazing that made me feel, so I just kissed his neck again. 

 

A few days later and we were back in Northern California, unpacking our small suitcases. It felt weird to be putting my clothes into his dresser, but I was fairly sure that it was a good. It was weird adjusting to living with someone. But Gerard was trying his best to make sure I was made to feel at home. The first thing he did when we land was get a duplicate apartment key for me on the way home from the airport. 

“Hey, who knows what’s going to happen when we get back and start moving you. I want you to have one immediately, Charlie Bear.” He smacked on his gum and gave me an encouraging grin as we drove back.

I’d spoken with my landlord who had, in fact, served me an eviction notice while I was out of town. She waived a bunch of fees for me when I explained the circumstances the best that I could. I got the feeling she just wanted me out of there. Frank had been an angel helping me move since I had helped him, and he was, in his words, “just getting me back.” I broke down crying a few times during the move, I wasn’t going to lie. I’d been in that apartment for two years and it felt like home to me, and I was going to be living in a much wealthier neighborhood with Gerard and that scared me.

Gerard was going back and forth from his office on campus and his studio at the apartment. I was working on some projects so the last week of December was pretty much us passing by each other or working back to back in silence, the occasional makeout session peppered throughout. Gerard had gone with me to set up an appointment to meet with a psychiatrist, and then a therapy session right after. January 3rd. 

I’d be lying if I said I was excited. I put it out of my mind so we could celebrate at Gerard and Frank’s friend Ray’s house for New Year’s Eve. Gerard donned his usual school attire, a dress shirt paired with a waistcoat and tie. I decided I should actually wear something similar to a dress, so I went out shopping one day while Gerard was catching up on some grading on campus, and I found a black mini-sort of dress. It had a sweetheart neckline with a leather choker that had mesh attached, going down to the neckline. It wrapped around me tightly, with some fabric cutouts held together with zippers. It was just sexy enough but plain enough to not be mistaken for a stripper because, as Frank had said, I quit that job.

When I stepped out of our room with it on when we were ready to go, I saw the moment when his mind blanked. “Holy shit. You’re beautiful. As always. You’re stunning. Also as always. Damn, girl.” He finished with, grinning a bedazzling smile, holding his arms out to hug me. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, stud,” I said, nuzzling my nose up to his before smacking his ass smartly. He jumped and yelped. “Been naughty?” 

I loved how his cheeks blushed so quickly. “You caught me,” he winked, recovering quickly. “I think you’ve been naughtier, picking this so I have to stare at you all night without being able to fuck you. Ugh, this is going to be unbearable.”

“If you’re nice enough, maybe I’ll go home with you.”

Ray lived about fifteen minutes away, and Gerard’s hand was on my thigh the whole drive, snaking up under the hem a few times before I smacked his hand away, telling him he had to wait. He made a strangled noise every time this happened and I was  _ loving it _ . He’d gotten his hair cut ‘for the new year,’ he said, and it was just below his ears. I was also loving this. It stuck out at all angles even more since it was shorter and had more layers.

Upon meeting Ray, I decided that Gerard had excellent taste in people. Ray Toro had amazing hair, an amazing smile, and a personality that radiated sunshine. When Gerard got whisked away by Frank to talk, Ray showed me his music studio in his basement. Guitars of all brands lined the walls, a spotlight on each of them. Apparently him and Frank played together and were thinking of forming a band, which I thought was the coolest thing in the world.

My hand was never devoid of a drink the entire night, whether I was on the back patio, in Ray’s studio, or in the kitchen or living room. Music was thumping throughout, and I was knocking back drinks like there was no tomorrow. I could vaguely hear the New Year’s Eve celebration emanating from a TV somewhere, and had a moment sitting on the couch where I realized there was no place I would rather be to ring in the New Year. 

Except next to Gerard. I had no idea where he was, I hadn't seen him since we'd arrived as I'd been busy talking with Frank and Ray and meeting their other friends. I rose from the couch and began to mosey through the crowd in the kitchen, spotting Gerard’s bird nest of hair through the window on the patio. I snaked my way out there to his side, planting a kiss on his cheek. He whirled around to face me.

“Oh my gawwwd, Charlie. Everybody this is Charlie Barley, my favorite person in the world,” he shouted with slurred words before pulling me into a wet, messy kiss. I giggled despite the embarrassment rising in my cheeks, looking down after everyone cheered. This was so awkward. “Hey, baby, could you grab me another beer from the cooler, pretty please with a cherry on top?” 

_ Wow _ . This was a side of him I hadn't seen before. “Sure,” I mumbled as I split away back through the crowd of people. Before I could leave the kitchen again, Frank pulled off to the side, concern etched on his face.

“Hey, Charlie, I hope you're having fun. But, uh, maybe keep an eye on Gerard? He's been putting them back pretty...pretty fast,” Frank said quickly, looking out the window where Gerard was motioning wildly to the group out there. “He's kinda worrying me.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said, not feeling too hot myself. I needed to switch to just water. “Has he said anything to you that, you know, was weird?” Frank bit on his lip, playing with his tongue ring.

“Not exactly, but he is just reminding me of when he used to be really...bad,” he trailed off. I cocked my head to the side. I wasn’t exactly sure what he was talking about. “I dunno if he’s told you about it…”

“I mean, he kind of mentioned that he used to have some addiction problems but I thought he had gotten mostly past that?” I stated as more of a question than a statement. 

“Yeah, me too, and that’s what’s worrying me. But,” he clapped his hand on my back, “I’m sure it’s nothing. Is that for him?” Frank asked, nodding at the beers in my hands.

“It was, but now I’m not sure.”

“Just keep an eye on him.”

 

“It’s not...it’s not...full?” Gerard asked when I handed him the beer can. I had taken a few sips out of it as quickly as I could during the walk from the kitchen back to him.

“I just had a sip from the top! It’s fine,” I smiled, pushing it towards him. He nodded, satiated with my response as he kissed me on the nose. 

“You’re a sweetheart,” he mumbled into my ear. Holy shit, he was reeking of alcohol. “Lisssen, Charlotte, I need to-I need to tell you something-” Gerard was cut off by the multitudes of people beginning to shout the count down. It must have been a minute to midnight. He seemed to have forgotten what he was going to tell me as he joined in on the countdown, but he never made it past the number eight. He buckled at the knees, almost falling flat on his face in the grass.

“Shit, Gerard, are you okay?” I sunk down to my own knees, struggling under his weight. His hair was in his eyes and he tried to blow it out with a puff of air from his mouth.

“It’s midnight. I need to kiss you. I love you. I love you so much,” he said quickly before completely falling down onto the grass. He was out. _ Fuck _ . Before I could get up to go look for them, Frank and Ray were at my side, helping me drag Gerard to one of the chaise lounges on Ray’s back patio. 

“I knew something was up when he wasn’t next to me for our annual midnight kiss,” Frank joked, elbowing me as he clearly tried to make light of the situation. I could see how worried he was behind his smile though. “Hey Charlie, go grab some water will you?” All I could do was nod, pushing back through the champagne drinking crowd to bring a glass of water back out to them.

“I’m sorry, I should have been keeping a closer eye on him,” I began to babble, but Frank just shot me a glare.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. This happens-well, happened-all the time. We got it under control,” he said firmly. Frank splashed some of the water on Gerard’s face, and he began to stir. I couldn’t decide if I was more concerned for Gerard or more upset that he hadn’t shared his current drinking problems with me. Concerned, I decided, as I realized I had a hard time sharing my own problems with him.

People were starting to leave Ray’s house as we guided Gerard to a couch in Ray’s studio. He was almost completely out of it, and I just sat next to him as Frank and Ray made him drink water in between yelling at him. I grabbed his hand, stroking it mindlessly with my thumb. It seemed to remind him that I was there, and he ceased all talking, turning to look at me.

“Oh my gawd, Charlie, you’re so pretty right now,” he leaned onto my shoulder with almost all of his weight, catching me off guard.

“So are you,” I replied autonomously. He giggled.

“I’m the fucking prettiest.”

“Yes, you are,” I kissed the back of his head, resting my forehead against it. “I love you, Gerard.”

“I love you too, Char-” he began to say before throwing up all over Frank’s shoes. Ray looked up, shrugging.

“They were ugly anyway.”


	23. Chapter 23

Gerard was sitting in his study, a sketchbook propped open and his computer blaring music. He had been like this for almost twenty hours; he wasn’t drawing or sketching or singing along to the music, but staring blankly at the paper. I wanted to say it was because he was embarrassed or ashamed about the party, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it, and I wasn’t about to pry and annoy him.

I busied myself with housework and carefully counting the bottles of alcohol we had in the cupboard. I drank a lot myself, but I liked to think I had it under control, or at least I thought. The sun was setting a casting an orange shadow over our entire apartment on the second day of the year, and I was sitting at the dinner table flicking lazily through facebook when I heard the floorboards groan under a shift in weight. My heart skipped as the door to his study slid open, and he stuck his head out, his expression softening at the sight of me in the dining room.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you I’m not really hungry tonight. My stomach’s still giving me problems,” he said, looking down at his feet. I just nodded, doing my best to bite my tongue and not address the elephant in the room.

“Okay. Have you at least had some crackers today? Been drinking enough water?” I asked delicately.

“Yeah.” He shuffled over to sit down next to me at the table, placing his head into my hands folded on top of the hardwood surface. “I’m tired. I think I might go to bed early.”

“It’s not even four,” I began to protest but thought better of it. “But do whatever makes you feel better.” I kissed his hair before wiggling my fingers to get him to straighten up and look at me.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. I sighed, not entirely sure what to say. 

“I love you,” was all I could muster. Gerard just nodded, looking down at our intertwined hands.

“I still have some work to do before Monday. I need to get that done,” he said as he rose to his feet, planting a kiss on the top of my head. The door to his study slid shut after he snaked back inside, and I was left alone in the dining room. I felt like a failed girlfriend. Was it me and all my stress that was causing him all of these problems? Did he even view them as problems?

There was still music coming from his study as I slid into bed, trying my best to shut the bedroom door silently. I couldn’t really believe he was still awake, but maybe he had just gotten on a creative streak with his project or something. He’d only been out of there once since our short powwow in the dining room, and that was to use the bathroom. I’d been dozing on the couch and hadn’t had the energy to try and intercept him and get him to talk to me. I just wanted to keep telling him that I loved him...but was that enough?

A few minutes after I had cralwed into bed, I heard the music stop and the sliding of his studio door. Gerard came into the bedroom, changing into pajamas. I thought he assumed I was already asleep, so I rolled over onto his side quickly as he was about to lay down. He yelped, jumping in the air. Once he looked down and saw me, he cracked a smile.

“There we go, that’s the first time I’ve gotten you to smile all day,” I noted dolefully. He gave me a half shrug as the smile began to dissipate from his lips and he got under the sheets with me.

“I haven’t been in a smiling mood today. I feel like a raincloud,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t like it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I prodded softly, playing with the sleeve on his tee shirt. I saw him purse his lips as he considered it, flipping his bangs out of his eyes.

“About what?” So he was going to play innocent.

“What happened at Ray’s party.” I gazed up at him from my side on my pillow, watching as he swallowed.

“I’ve been saying I’m sorry, Charlotte, what else do you want?” I was actively trying to avoid getting into a raised voice argument, so I just traced some of the freckles on his arms.

“No, no,” I cooed softly, “all I want from you is to know you’re okay, or you’re going to be okay, Gerard. That’s all. Because I care about you. A lot.”  _ Too much. Way too much _ . He let out a long sigh and nodded and a wave of relief washed over me as I realized I’d gotten him to see we were on the same team.

“Recently, I slipped back into some...bad habits,” he said. That pause was ominous and made my heart sink and my mind race in a million directions at once.

“What kind of ‘bad habits’?” I asked, making air quotes. He bit his lip, eyes darting between various things in his room and me. “Have you told me about these things before?” I decided to try and make it easier on him by asking more specific questions.

“No. Because I was afraid you would run away screaming from me because I’m a crazy person, Charlotte.” He flopped onto his side, staring me down with those delicious eyes of his. It was funny that he said that, because that was the exact thought I had had with him regarding my issues.

“I would never do that, Gerard. I love you, an awful lot, but if you don’t feel comfortable telling me yet, that’s okay too,” I explained, leaning forward to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

“You’re too amazing for me. I don’t deserve you.”  _ Whoa, where did that come from? _

“Why would you say that?” I asked.

“Because you say wonderful, supportive things like that and I just go and publicly humiliate both of us and get alcohol poisoning that I’m still shaking off and you’re still...here,” he motioned vaguely to us under the sheets.

“I’m still here saying these things because I like you a lot, Mr. Way. And because you have done the same exact thing for me, just under different terms. If I recall correctly, you flew across the country to do this for me. You deserve a lot of things.” Gerard just groaned when I said that, burying his face in my chest. “Apparently you deserve a face full of my boobs, too.”

His laugh was muffled, but it was there alright. Gerard leaned back onto his pillow, his hands behind his head. “I used to have a really bad alcohol and prescription drug addiction and I had mostly gotten past that. I thought I had. It’s getting bad again.”

_ It’s getting bad again _ , the words nearly everyone with a mental illness says or hears at least once in a while. It’s getting bad again, I said as I clutched my stuffed animals to me when I was a little kid and could not stop convincing myself a monster in the closet was going to come kill me. It’s getting bad again, I realized with a sigh when I was with Anthony and having my confidence beaten down by him at every step, causing me to look in the mirror with disdain at my own appearance. It’s getting bad again, I realized as I stitched up gouges I made on my own arm in freshman year, refusing to leave my dorm for a week after that. It’s getting bad again, I had said to Jordin when I was back at home over Christmas break and nothing would numb the pain.

“I know. It’s okay. Because I’m here. And I’ll be here to help you through this every step of the way, Gerard, I promise,” I scooted closer to him, grabbing both of his hands to cradle against my face. “You won’t be going through this alone anymore. Never again.”

“I’m going to fuck this up, I just know it. You’re saying all of these amazing things that are breaking my heart because I’m so afraid that I’m going to say something one night or do something another night and I will be alone, and not only that, I’ll hurt you. That’s...that’s not a risk I’m really willing to take,” Gerard rambled before drawing that conclusion, a dark look clouding his face suddenly.

“What do you mean, Gerard?” My heart was picking up speed;  _ if he means what I think he means, I am going to die.  _

“I’m just saying I’m not good for you, Charlotte, especially right now. You have your own issues to deal with, I can’t be added on top of that and expect you to continue being able to function. You’re going through your last semester of college, you don’t need a worn down professor dealing with binge drinking and suicidal ideation bringing you down.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” I couldn’t help but shriek. Gerard’s eyes widened, but he frowned, and I was afraid he was about to nod.

“No, Charlotte, I’m just thinking out loud about what’s best for you. I’m not going to break up with you, especially not right when we’re about to cuddle off and going into the dream realm together.” He said, as if that was supposed to quell my fears.

“But that means you are going to break up with me then? You’re just not now because it’d be inconvenient?” My voice was rising and I was about to start the waterworks, any moment now. “What about what’s best for you?” Waterworks had commenced by the time I said that.

Gerard was sitting up in bed next to me, mouth agape at the transformation from the calm supportive girlfriend to the blubbering mess with separation anxiety and abandonment issues that I’d just been through. He threw the blankets back so he could reach over to wrap his arms around me in a tight bear hug.

“Charlie, Charlie, I love you so much. Please don’t say things like that, because I don’t ever want to break up with you. You’re never just a ‘convenience’ to me, or an inconvenience for that matter; you’re my girlfriend, and you’re my whole world right now. I’m worried that is too much for you to handle though. I want you to be okay, too, you know.” He pulled me into his lap and began to rock me back and forth, running his fingers through my hair to calm me down. I was crying and crying, the pain in my chest ebbing only slightly at his words. 

I wasn’t just crying about the fact that I thought my amazing boyfriend was going to break up with me in bed; I was crying because of all the pent up frustration and sadness and anxiety I had been feeling the past few days. It was pouring out of me, tearing out, and it hurt. It stung. I was wracked with sobs, and it was all Gerard could do to just hold me and hand me a tissue every now and then. I think he understood why I was crying, too, which I was ever grateful for. 

I couldn’t even begin to imagine Gerard breaking up with me. It would be the worst pain imaginable, and I had thought that about Anthony breaking up with me. But Gerard and I actually got along amazingly and worked well together and loved each other...I never wanted this to go away. I wanted this to last forever. And even thinking about him leaving for a moment destroyed my world.

When the sobs began to subside, Gerard just pulled me down to cuddle with him under the sheets. “Are you feeling okay?” He asked. I nodded, sniffling and feeling like a stupid little girl. A stupid emotional girl.

“I’m sorry I’m such a crazy mess,” I said, tears forming at the corners of my eyes again. “I just got really worried you were breaking up with me.”

“I’m sorry I made you worried about that. And you’re not a crazy mess, I feel like that’s a normal reaction. I’m not leaving you, Charlie. We’re in it together.”

“You said you never wanted to break up with me.”

“That’s true, I don’t ever want to have to come to that.”

“So does that mean you’re waiting for me to break up with you?” I had to ask, it was bubbling at the back of my mind and about to explode. I felt Gerard stiffen, most likely with slight frustration, but he shook his head.

“No, baby. No. It means I love you a whole, awful lot and you are all that I ever think about and your smile is what gets me through the day, and your boobs are what get me through the night,” he said as he rolled over onto me, using my chest as a pillow. He let out a nervous laugh, and I had the feeling he was keeping something from me. But I ignored it and kissed him. We resumed our normal cuddling positions and he turned off the nightstand light.

“Goodnight, Gerard. I love you so much,” I kissed him.

“Goodnight, Charlie Barley, I love you more.”

A few hours after falling asleep, I woke up with a sudden realization. Gerard had said he never wanted to break up with me…because he wanted to marry me someday.


	24. Chapter 24

“I know you’re busy, honey, but I just wanted to call and let you know that I’m going to be able to make it to your graduation! I’m so excited for you. Give me a call back when you get this messages. Love you lots, babes.” My mom’s voicemail ended with a beep. I sighed, slipping my cellphone into my back pocket again. While I was looking forward to graduating, I was not looking forward with having to spend time with her. I had narrowly avoided getting lunch together during winter break...I feigned a busy schedule every time she tried to call me.

Jessica and I were eating lunch at the marketplace. She’d been oddly quiet the whole day, and I was trying to figure out why. I decided to drop a bomb on her. “So...Gerard and I are dating.” I half expected her to spit out her mouthful of salad or knock down her drink, but she just nodded.

“Yeah, you guys are a pretty hot topic around here,” she said, poking at a slice of chicken.

“What do you mean with that?” I didn’t know other people actually knew and the thought of it made me stomach churn.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Jessica pouted. 

“I didn’t know when to, we haven’t been talking as much lately and I’ve been really busy.”

“Sure. He wouldn’t shut up about you last year when we had his class together. He always tried to figure out if you liked him or not. Drove me crazy,” she said as she sipped on her soda.

“What?! You never told me that!” I couldn’t believe that Gerard had actually sought out Jessica to ask her about me. 

“Now you know how it feels,” she smirked, waving a fork full of salad at me. I rolled my eyes and we continued our lunch with minimal conversation before she ran off to her next class. I fished out my phone again to text Gerard.

 

**To Gerard, 12:20 PM**

**So you used to ask Jessica about me?**

 

My phone buzzed almost immediately after I locked it.

 

**From Gerard, 12:20 PM**

**Oh shit.**

 

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his reply. 

 

**From FRANK IERO, 12:22 PM**

**Is Gerard in trouble? He just made the saddest noise after he said you texted him xD**

 

**To FRANK IERO, 12:23 PM**

**You bet your ass he is.**

 

**From FRANK IERO, 12:24 PM**

**My ass or his ass?!**

 

**To FRANK IERO, 12:25 PM**

**Both your asses.**

 

**From FRANK IERO, 12:26 PM**

**Hm you better make sure he’s okay with a threesome, he’s always shot me down.**

 

**From Gerard, 12:26 PM**

**WHY AREN’T YOU REPLYING TO ME**

 

I felt like an idiot sitting there at a picnic table laughing at my phone alone, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t have a chance to reply before Gerard called me.

“Oh, hello,” I said quietly, pretending to be mad.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte! Please don’t be mad at me-”

“BE SO MAD AT HIM!” I heard Frank shout in the background.

“I’m just kidding, Gerard! I think it’s funny. And a little cute,” I admitted, giggling. I heard Frank ‘awwww’ in the background.

“Damn, don’t freak me out like that then. What’re you doing right now? I miss you,” he whined.

“Aw, poor baby. It’s been like four hours since you’ve seen me, how terrible!”

“I miss you too, Charlie-” Frank said into the phone, muffled from Gerard wrestling the phone back from him, I assumed.

“Oh Frank, if only my boyfriend missed you as much as you missed me-”

“Charlie, I love you!” Gerard said, giggling. “Where are you?”

“I’m on the market patio. Where are  _ you _ ?” I asked. I felt hands over my eyes and nearly threw my phone onto the tile ground.

“RIGHT BEHIND YOU, BITCH!” Frank yelled in my ear. I swung my arm around at him, almost clocking him in the face. He slid onto the bench next to me, clutching his sides.

“How old are you?” I asked him, looking up at Gerard, who was coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my neck.

“Hey, hot stuff,” he muttered into my ear. 

“Get a room,” Frank said, shooting a look at the two of us.

“Again, how old are you?” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Twenty-five,” he said as he helped himself to the rest of my fries.

“Nobody likes you when you’re twenty five,” I said.

“I don’t think that’s the way the song goes, dork,” Frank said.

“But nobody likes you Frank,” Gerard quipped in. 

Frank eventually wandered away to see if his students ever showed up to his class, leaving me and Gerard holding hands. On campus. With people looking. I had heartburn from the anxiety it was causing me, but secretly I was loving it.

“You’re weirded out, aren’t you?” He asked, seeming to sense my discomfort.

“A little. Trying not to be.” I leaned over and pecked him on the lips, watching as he blushed bright red. “You weirded out?”

He shook his head. “I’m just tired. I slept so horribly last night. I just kept thinking about how this is your last semester and, I don’t know, I guess I’m worried about what’s going to happen when you graduate. If that makes sense,” he added on quickly at the end. I continued stroking his hand. I hadn’t really given much thought to it. At all, actually.

“Wow. I haven’t considered that really.” I frowned.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about it right now. But that’s easier said than done, huh?” He gave me a small sideways smile. “Do you want to go smoke on the drainage pipe before my next class?”

“I wouldn’t want anything more,” I grinned and took his outstretched hand, following him across campus with my hand in his. I got a few glares from some girls I recognized from past art classes, which just made me squeeze Gerard’s hand tighter. He helped me up onto the top of the pipe and pulled me into his lap as we lit up our cigarettes. “I’ve been looking at some jobs with some photography companies.”

“That’d be super cool! Which companies around here?” Gerard blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth.

“Well, there aren’t really a lot around here. Since it’s such a small town,” I said quietly, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Oh. So. Where  _ are _ you looking?” Gerard seemed to realize what I was saying.

“There are a lot of jobs in San Francisco. I really love San Francisco, Gerard,” I said, trying to explain myself. 

“San Francisco is pretty cool,” Gerard muttered, pulling me closer to his chest and grumbling into my hair. “You smell good.”

“I smell like cigarettes.”

“But you smell good.”

“I love you,” I said.

“I love  _ you _ . And if you want to go to San Francisco, that’s okay with me. Whatever you want to do, baby.” He kissed me on my cheek again. 

“Would you come with me?” I blurted out suddenly. I was still semi-new to this whole “healthy relationship full of communication” idea. I felt his lips form a smile against the skin on the back of my neck.

“Of course I would, if you wanted me to. Anywhere.” He flicked his cigarette, accidentally coating me with ash. “I’ll even dump my cigarette ash on you, doesn’t that prove my love?” I chuckled. I loved him so much.

“I guess it does. Don’t you have a class to teach?” We had already burned through our cigarettes. He shrugged.

“I missed you.”

“We live together! We see each other all the time!”

“Oh, so that means I can’t miss you then?” He nuzzled my neck. “I always miss you.” 

“Just because you wrangled this former student doesn’t mean you can neglect your current ones,” I elbowed him playfully.

“You’re no fun,” he gave me a quick bite on my earlobe, whisking us both down from the pipe and onto the soft dirt beneath. “I’ll see you in a few hours at home?”

“Yes you will,” I gave him a kiss before walking the opposite direction across campus. If I would have looked around, I would have seen him typing me a text message.

 

**From Gerard, 12:58 PM**

**I love you**

 

I was already across campus and fixing my makeup in the girls’ bathroom when I saw it, smiling at my phone despite trying not to. I couldn’t believe how perfect he was. And he would move wherever I wanted with me.  _ If I wanted him to _ . Did that mean he didn’t want to? My head took these worries and began to run with them so fast that I didn’t notice a girl standing at the sink next to me blatantly staring at me.

“Hi?” I asked timidly.  _ What the fuck _ .

“So you’re the one fucking Way, then?” She asked rudely, ripping a paper towel off the dispenser.  _ Ouch _ .

“Well, we’re dating. So yeah, I guess,” I said. Who the fuck was this?

“Don’t think you’re special.” She wiped her hands and marched out of the background. Immediately I began to wonder if she was Gerard’s ex, or if Gerard had made a habit of hooking up with former students of his. Suddenly, the high I had gotten from Gerard’s text a few minutes prior was deflated and I was left feeling like a steel wool ball of anxiety.

 

**To Gerard, 1:01 PM**

**Some girl in the bathroom just called me out for thinking I’m ‘special’ for dating you. What’s up with that?**

 

**From Gerard, 1:03 PM**

**Short with blonde hair?**

 

_ How did he know that?!  _ That had to have been his ex then.

 

**To Gerard, 1:04 PM**

**Great, is she an ex?**

 

**From Gerard, 1:05 PM**

**No, she’s in my current class and won’t leave me alone. Don’t worry. <3**

 

That calmed my anxiety a bit. I put my phone away without texting him back and went to my last class of the day, one of my final photography labs that I needed for graduation. Soon, I’d have my degree in photojournalism and I was beyond happy about that.

I made it back to the apartment before Gerard did that evening. I was working on some photography layout sketches when I got a text from an unknown number.

 

**From (805) 555 - 9207**

**So you’re fucking your art professor now?**

 

This was great. I absolutely loved getting menacing sounding texts from numbers I didn’t recognize.

 

**To (805) 555 - 9207**

**Who is this?**

 

I didn’t get a response all night. I showed it to Gerard when he got home, and he just buried his face in his hands. “Agh, this is why I was so worried about dating you. You have no idea who this is?” 

“I don’t. I went the whole previous semester without anyone saying anything to me,” I said, staring at the text conversation again. “Maybe it’s that girl.”

“But how would she have gotten your number? And why would she care? This is stupid. College kids are just fucking high schoolers that never grew up. Besides you, baby,” he pulled me up from the dining room table to kiss me when I looked crestfallen. 

“I’m just happy I’ll be out of here in four months. May twenty-fifth can’t come fast enough,” I mumbled into his chest, sighing deeply.

“Man, we need to start planning a party for you! Is your family coming?” He held me at arm’s length, a smile across his lips.

“I know Dad and Jordin are. I haven’t really talked to my mom about it,” I admitted, looking down. Someday, I’d have a normal family that wasn’t a complete mess like we were now.

“It’ll be fun,” he sang down to me. I bit my lip, worry on the tip of my tongue.

“But you won’t go as hard as you did on New Year’s, right?” I instantly regretted bringing it up. For a split second he looked as if I’d slapped him, but it was nothing more than a ghost of an expression the next second.

“I’ll be fine, Charlie.”

He gave me a kiss before wandering over to his studio to do some work, and I just stayed at the table staring at my phone. I needed some xanax, which reminded me of the therapy appointment I had missed on the third of January because of Gerard’s incident. I had been far too worried about him to be away from him. I needed to reschedule that. I opened my computer and did just that before Gerard popped out of his study, asking if I wanted to shower with him.

What kind of person would I be to say no to that?


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Non-consent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry!

It was the last week before spring break, and everybody was ready to be out of school for a few days. I was going crazy with my midterms and so was everyone else; everybody was irritated and snapping at everybody. The mysterious number hadn’t texted me anymore since that one time, and I hadn’t given it another thought. 

I was working evenings at a small coffee shop down the street from school and was enjoying it. It was only part time, nothing huge, but it was something to keep me distracted from the impending doom of final exams and the decision of where I was going to move. And if I was going to stay with Gerard.

Of course I didn’t want to break up with him; I hadn’t even considered that an option, really. But if he wanted to stay up here, I wasn’t going to force him to do long distance if he didn’t want to. Given our track record with how poorly we deal with being away from each other, I was terrified that it wouldn’t work. I’d almost brought it up with him a few times, but every time I tried I swallowed it back down. I hated confrontation almost as much as I hated serious relationship talks. During my time with Anthony, the line between those two things had become blurred.

As I was reflecting on how much Anthony had screwed me up, I almost didn’t notice when he walked in the coffee shop. Immediately, I began to sweat. My stomach was churning and I was about to vomit into the latte I was making for the customer waiting in the corner hunched over her phone. Anthony made a beeline to the counter I was at, placing his palms on it and leaning over it towards me.

“Hello, Charlie. Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, a small smile dancing on his lips. 

“Hello, Anthony. Can I get you something to drink?” I had handed the latte off to the girl and was now waiting behind the cash register patiently. At least there was nobody in line behind him.

“How about a nice tall glass of you?” He said.  _ What a creep. I can’t believe people actually said things like that in real life. _

“Yeah, I’m good thanks.”

“What, now that you’re fucking your art professor? Charlie, I came here because I wanted to tell you I’ve changed. I’m sorry for all of the things I did, and I know we can make it work and I’ll make you happier than that creep can,” he begged, trying to grab one of my hands.

“What the fuck, Anthony. No. Are you being serious right now? Is this a joke?” I looked around quickly at the rest of the customers in the coffee shop, but nobody was about to jump out with a camera telling me I’d been punk’d.

“Charlotte, we have so much history together. Do you really want to just throw all those years away? You were my best friend. I’m so lost without you,” Anthony said, looking into my eyes with what seemed to be sincerity. My coworker, Aleisha, had just clocked in and tapped me on the shoulder to tell me it was time for me to head home. “Perfect timing! We can talk about this over some coffee.”

“No, I don’t think so. I have to get home. I have things to do. Please leave,” I said quietly. I was fighting my heart right now to tell myself I didn’t miss him, because I didn’t. He had just fucked with my head enough to convince me that I wasn’t good enough for anybody else, and that he was the only one who could ever love me.  _ Gerard loves me. Gerard loves me. Ignore Anthony _ . “Take care,” I said before ducking into the back room and throwing my apron in the laundry bin.

I fished my phone out of my purse as I slid out the back door of the coffee house, looking around for Anthony. Thankfully, there was no sign of him. He was probably just waiting at the front door… or by my car. He was leaning against my driver seat, perking up when he saw me come out of the building.

“Anthony, I don’t want to have to say it again, but please leave me alone. I don’t want to cause any trouble,” I begged. Why was this so hard to deal with? I should be over him by now, right? I had a new, loving, amazing boyfriend so I shouldn’t have any residual feelings left over from Anthony. 

I guess when you spend such a long time with someone they never truly leave your heart.

“Charlotte, I’ve been doing a lot better-” He began.

“Good, then leave me alone? Keep doing better, do your own thing, find another girl to fuck up,” I said, not able to control my anger. I was reaching for my driver door handle when he grabbed my wrist and yanked me up to his face.

“I don’t need anybody but you,” he said, before forcing his mouth on mine. I froze. All my airways were constricting and I couldn’t move. Adrenaline must have kicked in because I wrestled myself free from his grasp, kicking him in the shins before getting in my car and locking my door. He pounded on the window, shouting profanities in between loving pet names. 

I sped the entire way to Gerard’s apartment. I didn’t have time to worry about going fifty in a residential zone. I was freaking out. Tears were streaming down my face. I kept wiping my mouth, trying to get rid of any trace Anthony had left on it. I had cheated on Gerard. I felt like a terrible girlfriend. Gerard was watching the news with a stack of papers in his lap and a cup of coffee in one hand when I burst into the apartment.

“Hey, baby…” He trailed off, dumping the papers onto the couch and setting his coffee onto the table before rushing over to me. “What’s wrong? Charlie, what’s wrong?” Gerard pulled me into a hug and I just cried into his chest. I was probably getting mascara all over it, and I pulled away to make sure I wasn’t staining it. “Talk to me, Charlotte.”

But I couldn’t. I just held onto him tight, and eventually he stopped trying to get me to speak and instead pulled me onto his lap when he sat down in the loveseat. “Baby, I love you, but I don’t know what’s wrong and I don’t know what to do to help.” Eventually the hysteric sobs dwindled into silent tears and a sniffle every now and then. I wriggled out of his hold and got up to pour myself a glass of whiskey. I watched Gerard’s eyes narrow as he waited for me to say something. “Was it work? Did you get fired?”

“No, Gerard, I didn’t fucking get fired like my old job. I’m not a complete fuck up, you know,” I snapped, setting my empty glass down onto the countertop. Pain flashed across his face, and I immediately regretted my words. “I’m sorry.” I poured another glass.

“I didn’t say you were a fuck up,” he said lowly, turning back around on the couch to grab his coffee mug. After pouring a substantial amount of alcohol into my glass, I sat on the loveseat. He reached a hand out to me, beckoning me to come closer, but I shook my head.

“You’re not going to want to touch me after I tell you what I did.”

His eyes widened in horror and I watched as he prepared himself for the worst. I began retelling the Anthony incident, not leaving anything out. When I was done, I was waiting for him to tell me to get out or that he was going to stay at Frank’s, or anything along those lines. But he just buried his face in his hands, letting out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what you want me to say or do,” I yelled, the tears starting again. But he just got up, sat down next to me, and pulled me into another hug, running his hands up and down on my back.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte. I’m sorry that happened to you.” He wasn’t mad? He wasn’t mad even a little bit? I was thoroughly confused, pushing him away from me.

“Are you mad?” I asked.

“Why the hell would I be mad? It’s not your fault!” Gerard said exasperatedly, his thumb still stroking my arm. “Charlotte, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just...I feel bad for not being able to do anything to stop him.”

“Like you would’ve been able to, anyway. You had no idea.” We sat in silence as the sun set through the window, casting shadows across the papers he had been mulling over. The news murmured in the distance, filling in at least some of the radio silence that was threatening to deafen me. I leaned into Gerard’s neck, basking in the warmth and breathing in the smell of vanilla and cigarettes. I felt him swallow before sighing again, his hair brushing my eyelids. It was getting long again. 

“I’m sorry.” He said after a lifetime.

“It’s not your fault, please don’t say that,” I pleaded. “I already feel bad enough as it is, and I’m feeling guilty every time you say that.”

“I’m…” He stopped himself before apologizing again and we stayed like that for a while, watching the horrors of the day unfold on the news as my horrors of the day already had. It was sitting there on that couch that I began to think that Gerard was too good for me, and all I did was bring him down with my bouts of negativity and depression. He didn’t need me in his life. 

I was so afraid he would get black out drunk again. I was so afraid he would do something harmful to himself to deal with all of the demons that were clawing their way out of my mind, through my mouth and eyes. Gerard didn’t need to deal with me. He had enough on his plate. 

He eventually dozed off in that position, and I quietly untangled myself from his embrace and laid a blanket on top of him. I went and sat on our bed. Every minute that ticked by just affirmed my thoughts that I should leave him. Gerard didn’t deserve to have an anxiety and depression ridden suicidal girlfriend that had a crazy ex out for her. He deserved to live a happy life, unbridled by someone like me. I gazed around our room, at the life we had made together, and thought about what he said months ago about never wanting to leave me.

Maybe I was the one that had to leave him.


	26. Chapter 26

 

It was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. It was as if there was a gaping hole in my chest. Gerard was sitting in his study when I made my way in there to have the talk with him. From the moment I walked in there, he knew something was wrong. He stood up when I walked in.

“We need to talk,” I began. He pulled me into his arms for a kiss. I didn’t resist, because his kisses were the best feeling in the world. There was a hint of desperation in his kiss, and it made my heart sink. “I’m sorry.”

He spent the next two minutes holding me on his lap as he sat on the corner of his desk, running his hands up and down my back, my thighs, my arms. “I love you,” he said over and over into my ears with the sweetest sadness. 

“I need to leave,” I said slowly. The next movements happened in slow motion for me. With painful slowness, his hands fell from me. I looked up into his face, and his eyes were widening with betrayment. His mouth opened and closed several times before I couldn’t stand it anymore. “You deserve better.”

“Don’t,” he said, his voice thick with pain. All I could do was stare up at him. Tears were pooling in the wells of my eyes, I couldn’t help it any longer.

“I’m sorry. You don’t need this. You don’t need  _ me _ . I can’t keep bringing you down-”

“Do you realize what you’re saying right now?” Gerard asked, more of a statement than a question. “You’re leaving?”

“Gerard, I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking. You have a lot going on in your life and you have your own list of problems and all I do is add to it. I can’t keep asking you to put everything aside and deal with me.” I had to keep looking down at my feet because I couldn’t stand the look on his face. “This is going to sound cliche, but it’s not you.”

“Charlotte,” Gerard began but I heard his voice catch. “If this is what you want.”

It wasn’t what I wanted, not at all. But it was what I had to do. If I hadn’t come along in his life, Gerard probably wouldn’t be on this downward spiral of blacking out at parties and pulling his hair out in his studio with frustration. “You don’t need to be worried constantly that your girlfriend is going to kill herself. I want better for you.” I finally looked back up at him. His eyes were red with unshed tears and he was breathing heavily as if he was in pain. He was in pain, though, and it was my fault. He would be in more pain if I stayed, though.

“But I want you to be okay,” Gerard said quietly. 

“I want  _ you _ to be okay.”

“Can we just make this temporary? Can this not be permanent? Please,” he begged. I weighed it in my mind; I hadn’t thought of a break over a breakup. 

“Maybe. I don’t know right now. But I’m going to stay at Jessica’s for a while until I can sort my head out,” I explained. He pulled me into his arms again and I felt him slowly nod.

“Whatever will make you happy,” he said finally, breaking my heart once again. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, but you’re never going to be happy while I’m around. I’m sorry.” I gave him a kiss on his cheek as I backed up to the door, grabbing my duffel bag I had packed that morning. “Please be safe.”

As I was walking down his apartment building’s hallway, I heard him say one last thing.

“Remember that I love you.”

 

* * *

  
Jessica welcomed me into her apartment with open arms and a pint of chocolate chocolate chip ice cream. “I’m sorry, Charlie,” she had said when she wrapped me in a hug before ushering me inside out of the hallway. “I’m sorry it’s not cleaner in here, but I’ve been cramming for midterms and also trying to pack for spring break. I’m going to Mexico, but if you still need somewhere to stay in a week you can definitely stay here while I’m gone.”

She had made up a bed on the couch for me, which I dove into amid a river of tears. After thanking her, she went back to her room to study and I just laid on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I wondered what Gerard was going to do for spring break. I wondered if this really was going to be temporary. I grabbed the bottle of wine I had packed in my duffel bag and uncorked it, drinking straight from the bottle. This was going to be an interesting few weeks.

I had gotten to Jessica’s apartment at around nine at night and it was easily a quarter to four in the morning before I felt any inkling of exhaustion. I’d taken all my sleeping aids and downed an entire bottle of wine, which explained why my head was spinning like I was riding a corkscrew coaster. Jessica had long gone to bed and I was sitting up, trying to focus on the news without throwing up. I wanted to keep the alcohol down, because it was blurring the edges of everything, especially my emotions and my pain.

I wondered what Gerard was doing right now.

I wondered if I was doing the right thing.

 

Class the next day was interesting. My eyes were nervously darting around campus, as if I expected to see Gerard everywhere all at once. My hangover was legendary, but at least Jessica had anticipated that and sent me off to class with a bottle of ibuprofen and a gallon of water I was lugging around awkwardly. Everywhere I looked, there were couples happy in love, rubbing their noses together and holding hands on stone benches, chirping about their spring break plans.

I didn’t care about the rules; I lit up a cigarette on the edge of the quad and inhaled deeply, burning the back of my throat. I struggled to keep a cough down when I saw a familiar figure across the quad heading my direction. When I met Frank’s eyes, he gave me a short wave before walking up to me. 

“Hate to bother you, but I’ll get in trouble unless I pretend to be talking to you about how you can’t smoke here.” He had dark circles under his eyes, his usual joyful demeanor vacant. “You doing okay?”

I looked up at him for a few seconds before bursting into silent sobs, bending over at my waist and spilling my tears onto my boots. The bench creaked as he sat down next to me, lightly placing a hand on my back.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said. I couldn’t reply because I was quietly gasping for air, trying to avoid a scene. Thank god I had worn sunglasses. My chest felt like it was being ripped apart at the seams. Everything hurt. I remembered this feeling from the first time Anthony had broken up with me; I thought I was dying or having a heart attack, or both. I never wanted to live through that pain again, but I had done it half a dozen more times with the same boy. And now, it was a hundred times worse. Because I knew this pain was self inflicted, and I was probably also inflicting this pain on somebody I loved more than all the stars in the sky.

“Is he here today?” I managed to choke out as I sat up, trying to clean my face of tears. I saw Frank shake his head out of the corner of my eye and felt the tiniest wave of relief spread through me, along with a bitter feeling of disappointment. After sitting with me in silence for a few moments more, Frank rose to his feet.

“You know where to find me if you need to talk,” he said with another pat on my shoulder before he set back off across campus. My cigarette was on the ground, burnt out. Just like me. I was probably going to have to stop talking to Frank, too, because all he did was remind me of Gerard. But then again, everything reminded me of Gerard.

Like those two seats at that one table in the right corner of the market’s dining area patio. The drainage pipe that gazed down with a watchful gaze at the city. The CD in my car with a playlist of songs he claimed reminded him of me. Anything somewhat related to art. People with black hair. The color black. People.

It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and I was constantly checking my phone to see if he had called or texted me. He hadn’t. He probably wouldn’t, because he had told me he respected what I wanted.  _ But this isn’t what I wanted! _ My head was screaming.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The days didn’t get any easier. Jessica was super supportive at first, but I could tell her patience was growing thinner every time I started crying. Eventually Friday came, and she was off to the airport in a few hours. I’d gone out for a run and she had been blaring music when I walked in the door. After a few moments, though, the music stopped, giving away to two voices talking. I froze as I recognized one as Jessica’s, and the other as someone else.

“I’m telling you, they broke up. She’s been with me for the past four days, believe me,” Jessica said over the sound of drawers slamming shut. It sounded like she was still packing.

“And you’re leaving tonight for Mexico?” I had been about to knock on Jessica’s door when I heard Anthony’s voice crackle over speaker phone. 

“Yeah, so if you want to try and get her back tonight’s the night.”

I thought I was going to be sick. Fear flooded my veins as I took a few staggered steps backwards onto the couch and just turned the TV on automatically. I didn’t need to hear anything else. My best friend had been telling my stalker ex everything about my ex. That was how he knew where I worked. How he knew I was dating Gerard. And he knew I was going to be alone in her apartment that night. I fought the bile that was rising in my throat and sat numbly on the couch, staring at the fuzzy screen before realizing I should be getting my shit together and getting the fuck out of there.

About an hour later, Jessica came out of her room with her suitcases, sunglasses perched on top of her head. She shot me a confused look as she saw me stuffing my clothes into my duffel bag. “Going somewhere?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I’m actually going back home to visit my parents. Really last minute but they just called me and invited me for spring break.” To my surprise, Jessica rolled her eyes.

“Good. Thought you were going to keep sitting around here talking about how much pain you were in and how much of a martyr you were for breaking up with Way.” She left some keys on the table. “I’m off to the airport. If you need the keys, they’ll be here. Be good!”

She blew me a fake kiss before walking out the front door. That was the moment I ran to the bathroom and threw up. 

After emptying the contents of my stomach into her toilet, I was sitting panting on the bathroom floor. I needed to get out of there. I had no idea if and/or when Anthony would be showing up here. As if on cue, my phone started to ring. As it did every time my phone made a buzzing noise, my heart leapt in hope of it being Gerard. It wasn’t. It was Frank.

“Hello?” I said, wiping the corners of my mouth with a tissue.

“Charlotte,” Frank said sternly. He never called me Charlotte, always Charlie. “I didn’t know who else to call-” I felt my heart rate quicken as he said those words, his voice breaking off into silence.

“What? Why? What happened?” I was marching out of the bathroom and grabbing my things as I asked him that, my mind going off in a million possibilities of what had happened.

“He’s not picking up his phone anymore. He said some...scary things. And I don’t know what to do,” he said the last part quickly. 

“I’m heading over there now.” Frank was silent on the other end of the line. “I still have a key to his apartment.”

At that point, I didn’t care if I got a speeding ticket. I peeled out of the parking lot of Jessica’s apartment complex and onto the street before speeding to the freeway entrance. She lived about ten minutes away from him, but I needed to cut that time in half.

It felt like years before I was standing outside of his apartment, number 117, jiggling the key in the lock. My hands were shaking too hard for me to open it properly. Not only was I worried about the state he was in, I was worried about seeing him for the first time in four days. Which didn’t sound like a lot, but it felt like an eternity to me, after being in constant, unending communication with him for such a long time now.

By the time I swung the door open, I was sweating profusely. My veins felt like they were on fire. I threw my jacket off onto the entryway table, rushing into his apartment. The TV was askew on his media center, noisy black and white fuzz covering the entirety of it’s screen and filling the apartment with a static buzzing, mirroring the blood rushing through my ears. “Gerard.”

I heard something crash in the bathroom, and I dropped my bag and sprinted across the living room to open the door. My hand flew over my mouth in reaction to the sight I was met with.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Alcohol abuse

The water in the tub was a deep, disturbing grey, probably from the cigarette ash falling softly from the cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. Smears of red covered the counter and porcelain lining of the tub, causing my heart to drop. The shower was running, serenading the top of his now bright cherry red hair. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief as I realized the red around the bathroom was simply hair dye and not blood.

I rushed forward, getting a closer look. He was fully clothed in one of his nicer suits, now ruined by the murky water. His eyes were half closed and he wasn’t responding to me walking in the bathroom. “Gerard. Gerard. It’s me.” An empty bottle of Jack Daniels was shattered to pieces on the bathroom floor, another half full one in the corner of the shower. I stepped carefully around the one on the floor, pushing aside the curtain to grab his hand. “Wake up,” I pleaded, tugging on his hand.

My phone buzzed when Frank texted me he was on his way. I tossed my phone on the counter, wrapping my arm around Gerard’s torso and draping his arm over my shoulders to try and get him out of the tub. “Charlie? What’re you doing….here,” he breathed. At least he was still alive.

“I’m helping you,” I whispered as we got him out of the tub. I helped him to the ground, far away from the shattered glass bottle. I took off his suit jacket, tossing it onto the toilet along with the tie that was already unraveled around his neck.  “What the fuck did you do?” I muttered as I checked him over. No cuts that I could see. So far so good.

“I was just having a drink,” he said slowly, his eyes flicking lazily over to the bottle in the corner of the shower. “Why are you here?”

“Frank called and said you weren't picking up and I was worried about you,” I said, my lower lip trembling slightly. I couldn't help it anymore and I hugged him close to my chest at an awkward angle since we were both splayed across the floor. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital? Can you stand up?”

“Please don't cry,” he said somberly, his eyebrows knitting together. “I hate seeing you cry.”

“I'm sorry I left,” I mumbled into his chest, tears mingling with his wet shirt. “I miss you.”

“I miss you.” 

We sat like that for awhile, his hand eventually finding its way to the back of my head which he began to stroke slowly. “You dyed your hair.”

“I needed a change.”

“You need to drink some water. Can you stand up?” I helped him struggle to his feet, my knees buckling under his weight. “Let's get you out of those clothes.”

“Anytime you want, baby,” he chuckled, evolving into a fit of coughing before sinking to his knees in front of the toilet and throwing up. I guessed that was a good thing.

“I'll be right back,” I said as I stepped out of the bathroom and rushed to the kitchen. My hands were shaking as I filled a glass full of water, some of it sloshing over the sides before I got back next to him. He was standing up now, both of his hands gripping the counter for dear life.

“I need to change.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about his clothes or not. He was glaring at his reflection in the mirror before I wrapped my arm under his and helped him to his bedroom, perching him on the bed. He kicked the door shut when we heard the front door swinging open and heard Frank call out.

“We're in here, hold on,” I shouted as I unbuttoned Gerard’s shirt, trying to focus on getting him into dry clothes instead of the fact that I was straddling him and taking his clothes off on his bed. I looked down at him and we locked gazes before he turned away, gazing off to the side. 

“You're so pretty,” he said quietly. I felt my cheeks grow hot, along with other things.

“You're still prettier.”

“If I hadn't just thrown up now is where I would kiss you.”

I sighed, my breath making my bangs flutter up from my face. “You're making this hard on me.”

“No, you're making this hard on  _ me. _ ” he was looking up at me and I couldn't help but giggle.

“Stop.”

“Only if you undress me.”

We were probably joking more than we should have been, given the current situation. I should have been more serious, more stern with him. But I couldn't bring myself to when my cheeks were the same color as his hair.

“What's happening in there?” Frank's voice was muffled through the door. I helped Gerard wriggle out of his shirt and lowered myself to unbuttoning his pants. I glanced up at him, catching him as he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Great things, Frankie,” Gerard moaned, letting his head fall back on the bed. 

“Oh for fucks _sake_ , Gerard, now is not the fucking time.” Frank opened the door despite Gerard’s protests, freezing when he saw my on my knees with Gerard’s pants around his knees. “Are you fucking kidding-”

“He was in the bath with his clothes on, I'm getting him out of his wet clothes,” I muttered, shooting Frank a glare. He just walked back out to the living room and sat down.

“Gerard, we talked about this,” Frank whined loudly, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Gerard let out yet another sigh as he got to his feet unsteadily, staggering over to his dresser to find a new pair of underwear. I excused myself out to the living room while he change, shutting the door behind me before I sat down next to Frank. “I bet this is how you were planning on spending your first night if spring break.”

I almost brought up how I had barely gotten out of Jessica’s apartment in time, but decided to wait. “There are worse things I could be doing.”

“Worse things than making sure your ex hadn't killed himself?” Frank said quickly before the bedroom door swung up. Gerard shuffled over to the armchair across the living room, his head in his hands.

“Charlotte. Can you please get me a glass of water?” He asked.

“Charlotte isn't doing jack shit for you until you fucking explain what the hell you were thinking,” Frank went to get on his feet but I shoved a hand against his chest to force him back down on the couch, getting up to fill another glass with water. I heard Gerard’s mumbles and Frank's cursing while I took a sip of the water for myself. “So we don't need to take you to the hospital to pump your stomach?”

Gerard was slumped down in his seat when I handed him the glass, lingering when our hands brushed. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

“You're sorry? Is sorry going to fix this? You need to stop.” I hauled frank to his feet and dragged him into the entryway 

“Look, I get that you're mad, okay? I'm upset too. But lay off him, will you? We can have that conversation another time when he's not...like this,” I vaguely gestured towards the living room. Frank just swallowed, exhaling deeply before fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket.

“I'll be outside.”

That left Gerard and me alone in the apartment. I made my way back into the living room, sitting lightly on the edge of the coffee table closest to him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked tentatively. Gerard let out a bitter lap, eyes still cast down.

“Mentally or physically? Shitty in both departments.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I couldn't stand seeing him like this. He was dwarfed by the armchair and he looked so small, so defeated. I reached a hand out to rest on his knee.

“You can stay.” I didn't know how to respond to that. I was more than willing, and what's more is that I wanted to. Gerard raised his head to gauge my reaction after I didn't fill the silence. “You don't have to.”

I snaked my hand up to intertwine my fingers with his. “But I want to.”

He let out a long breath I hadn't known he was holding as he pulled my hand to his face, running it along his cheek. “Your hands are so soft.”

“I’m sorry.” I finally said.

“For what?” Gerard seemed legitimately confused.

“For leaving. I shouldn’t have. But I didn’t know what to do. And I thought it was the right thing. And it’s only been four days but I’ve been going out of my mind without you.” The words poured out of my mouth before I could shut the floodgates. He gently tugged onto my arm, pulling me into his lap. I curled up, feeling safe for the first time all week.

“You did what you had to do. You...I think you could say I went out of my fucking mind, too. I don’t care if you think you’re bad for me or too much or not enough, or whatever. You’re you, and I love you, and I want you, you’re all I...think about,” he said wearily. His exhaustion was becoming apparent.

“Can you forgive me?” I twirled a strand of neon red hair around my finger. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

* * *

  
  


I made him drink water while I cleaned the bathroom up. It’s amazing how fast you can work when you’re motivated by sleep. I swept up the glass, wiped up the excess dye even though it had already stained, drained the tub and sprayed bleach all over it, then hosed it all down. I went to the kitchen and promptly dumped the bottle of Jack Daniels down the sink. I ran the garbage disposal in the background so Gerard wouldn’t know what I was doing. We didn’t need to have that talk tonight.

Frank had gone home after I called him back up and talked to him about the situation. He seemed wary when I informed him of my plans to stay with Gerard overnight, but I was fairly certain he was just glad that Gerard wasn’t going to be alone. He’d smoked six cigarettes outside of Gerard’s apartment that night.

I insisted Gerard take a shower because he reeked. I could tell he wanted to invite me to take one with him, but he didn’t. We were going to ease back into this, especially since he wasn’t completely sober and we were both a little crazy. His apartment was a mess. While he was showering, I tried to wrangle some of the dishes that littered the kitchen countertops and at least organize into a somewhat pile the multitudes of canvases he had splashed paint, markers, and other things on. 

It both warmed and broke my heart that most of them were of me and my eyes.

****


	28. As You Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post this.

I didn’t sleep soundly that night. I kept waking up in a cold sweat, confused when the ambient lighting from my computer wasn’t lighting up Jessica’s living room. Then I remembered I wasn’t in Jessica’s living room. Jessica had been talking to my ex boyfriend behind my back for some sick reason. I was-I was back in bed with Gerard. 

He was draped across me and I felt my heart swell with love, tears pricking at my eyes. I was beyond happy to be back with him but the guilt from leaving him was overwhelming. I checked to make sure he was breathing normally then rolled over onto my side, careful not to untangle myself from his embrace. 

The next morning, I tried not to wake him when I got up. The weight of the situation bore down on me as I automatically crossed the kitchen to plug in the coffee machine. It felt good to be back at his apartment. I was watching the brown liquid drip into the glass carafe, my eyes probably glossed over as I was entrapped in my thoughts. We had a serious problem, all of our relationship problems aside. He couldn’t keep doing this. I didn’t know if he would go to therapy even though he’d pushed me to do the same. Maybe I could go with him?

I was jolted from my grocery list of things to worry about by the feeling of arms wrapping around my torso. Gerard pulled me back against his body, burying his face in my neck. I reached up behind me to tousle his hair, resulting in a low purring from him. “I love you.” 

Was it okay to say things like that already? I didn’t care. I was going to say it back. “I love  _ you _ .” I spun around in his embrace and was met with weary eyes still half shut. I rose onto my tiptoes to press my lips against him, the cool sensation of mint tingling my lips. He had gotten up and brushed his teeth already, and I hadn’t even noticed because I had been staring at the coffee pot with a burning intensity, apparently.

“What are we going to do?” Gerard whispered. I didn’t have time to answer because it seemed he changed his mind on wanting to hear the answer; he brought his mouth back down to mine, open, with such intensity I had to take a few staggered steps until I was backed up against his refrigerator. His tongue swirled in my mouth and my head spun, taken by surprise with this impromptu makeout session. He thought he was going to get out of talking about it with sex.

He was right, in a way. Because I had missed him  _ way  _ too much to let a second longer go by with both of us fully clothed. I reached my hand down into his sweatpants, watching his eyes flick up to mine. “Now that’s just playing dirty,” he murmured.

“Who ever said I played any other way?” 

 

We were both in bed, skin against skin, panting and sweating. Kitchen sex wasn’t as great as it had been hyped up to be so of course we ended back up in the bedroom. Gerard was cradling me, slowly running his fingers through the strands of my hair. I could feel his anxiety. Now that he had gone through with that distraction, we had to actually talk. I took a deep breath in to start doing just that, but he cut me off.

“I’m sorry.” His words hung in the air and I filled the emptiness with a long, low sigh.

“I know.” The truth was, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t really know the first steps I was supposed to take.

“You are my world.” I heard him take in a long, shaky breath. “And if you want to move to San Francisco, I’ll move with you. I can apply to some of the colleges around there. Or anywhere you want to go, really. Wherever you are, I want to be.”

We stayed like that for a while, mostly with him running his fingers through my hair and murmuring sweet nothings into my ear. I felt like I had an idea where he was headed with his previous comments, but I didn’t want to press it any further because the fluttering in my chest was threatening to suffocate me in the best way possible.

“Gerard, do you want to move to San Francisco?” I murmured as we cuddled, both of us perching precariously on the edge of a mid-morning siesta.

“As you wish,” he giggled. “It’s from the Princess-”

“I fucking know the Princess Bride.”

“Will you be my Princess Buttercup?” Gerard asked, his blinks getting longer and slower as he yawned.

“Only if you’ll be my Westley. Or my Dread Pirate Roberts, whichever you would prefer.”

“I’m more of a Westley, I think.”

“And I’m more of a Fezzik.”

 

I woke up and Gerard was gone. His note said he’d gone out to grab groceries since he’d been neglecting them for days. I took this opportunity to clean up his apartment the best I could. I began with compiling all of the canvases scattered around again, placing them in his studio and trying to not linger on the way he drew my cheekbones or the shattered stars in my irises. I did a twice-over with the bleach in the bathroom and resolved to get another shower curtain the next time I was out.

I was finishing with the dishes leaving rust marks in the sink when Gerard came in through the front door, arms heavy with grocery bags. His face lit up when he saw me, as if he was relieved I was still there and hadn’t fled. How could I ever leave him again? How could I have ever left him in the first place?

I must have been more out of my mind than I thought.

“You still have a few hours of light left in the day. You know, you could call one of those therapists that I’ve seen before and they might have some referrals for you,” I began broaching the subject he’d been actively avoiding all day.

“Okay. If you want me to, I will,” he agreed, giving my shoulders a quick squeeze with a free hand before going to unload the groceries from their bags. “So do you have any job offers in San Francisco?”

“I’m in a secondary interview with a photography magazine firm down there. I’m really hoping I get it. And I could start over the summer, they don’t mind waiting until I graduate. It would be so perfect,” I began to uncontrollably gush about it. Gerard looked across the kitchen at me, a satisfied, proud smirk on his lips.

“I’m so happy for you. And I can’t believe I’m standing in my kitchen with you again.”

“You are. Get used to it. Because I’m here to stay. If you’ll have me,” I added quickly, my words sounding stale and outdated. Gerard tossed his head back with a laugh.

“You’re adorable and it breaks my heart.”

I wondered what he meant with those words but didn’t want to press into the matter more. He’d already agreed to going to therapy so that was leaps and bounds ahead of any progress I was wanting to accomplish that day.

**From FRANK, 2:44 PM**

**Hey, how’s he doing?**

 

I had hoped that Frank would talk to Gerard directly, but I’d serve as a messenger for a little while.

 

**To FRANK, 2:46 PM**

**He’s fine. Went out to get groceries while I cleaned. Talking about therapy.**

 

**From FRANK, 2:47 PM**

**Good, just be sure he actually goes.**

 

**To FRANK, 2:48 PM**

**I know you’re mad with him but I think he gets it by now.**

 

Frank didn’t text me back for a few minutes and I began to worry that I had been out of line in assuming anything about their relationship. 

 

**From FRANK, 2:56 PM**

**Just making sure.**

 

He was probably biting back on something he wanted to say. I left my phone on the counter and went about putting away the groceries Gerard had brought back.

“Hey, I was wondering if you’d want to go out to dinner tonight?” He leaned against the back of the couch and gazed at me from across the kitchen. He was getting more color back in his cheeks and that warmed my heart. The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile, mischievous smile.

“Oh dear, Gerard, are you asking me out on a date?” I batted my eyelashes as I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Oh dear, Charlotte, I think I am. Even though you slept with me last night. And this morning. And a few minutes from now,” Gerard cast his eyes up at the ceiling as he couldn’t repress his smile.

“Damn. Missed me that much, did you?” I crossed the kitchen to wrap my arms around his neck and plant a swift kiss on his lips. “But what kind of lady would I be if I slept with you before our dinner tonight?” I watched him visibly deflate.

“Fuck. I guess you’re right. Let’s go to dinner now, then,” he grabbed my hand and turned towards the door.

“You’re funny. But we’re not done cleaning the apartment.”

 

You don’t always see the curveballs life throws at you. No matter how much you try to expect the unexpected, you can’t win every time. I was beginning to realize this after telling it to myself for years and years. Gerard was staring at my wearily over our candlelit dinner at the Italian restaurant downtown while I was on the phone with my mother. I felt my eyes involuntarily widen, my mouth drop open, my breathing slow to a halt. Gerard perked up when he saw this, frowning and seeming to ask me wordlessly what was wrong.

It was all I could do to not drop my phone into my spaghetti after she told me she was going to be in town in a few hours. I thought I was going to throw up. 

“Charlotte? Charlie, are you still there?” My mom’s voiced echoed from my phone. I did not want to see her. Not after the few days I had been through. Not after what she had done to our family and, more importantly, my dad. I was fuming; electricity was surging through my veins and I was in danger of cracking the stem of the glass of wine perched in my other hand. Gerard was simply watching all of this unfold from across the table, his face etched with concern.

“Yes. Sorry, mom, I’m out at dinner with my boyfriend right now,” I said numbly. “I…” my voice trailed off as I watched Gerard’s eyes widen as he brought up his hand to his neck to make a swift cutting motion.  _ What the fuck _ ? I glanced over my shoulder to see who he was making that gesture to, but when I turned back around with a questioning glance to him he simply shrugged it off.

“Well, I’m going to be there soon so get your guest room ready!” Her voice chirped.

“Mom. We don’t have a guest room. We live in a one bedroom apartment.” Fuck. I was so angry. “There’s plenty of hotels downtown, and we only live ten minutes away. Tell me again why you didn’t call ahead?” I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding the irritation in my voice and I knew it; I couldn’t be bothered at this point.

“Charlotte. Where are we going to stay? We have been planning on surprising you-”

“Excuse me,  _ we _ ? Who is ‘we’?” I snapped, interrupting her. Gerard had gotten up and excused himself to the bathroom while my face grow warmer. 

“Carl is coming.”

I took a deep breath, resting my thumb and index finger against the bridge of my nose. I was going to fucking kill something.

“Mom, I need to get back to dinner. Make yourself a hotel reservation at the Lilac Inn downtown. They have good rates. Let me know when you get in and I will come get you.”

“I wanted to surprise you for your graduation!” She exclaimed, a false happiness in her voice. Somewhere deep in my chest something shattered and I was on the verge of tears.

“Mom. My graduation isn’t for another two months,” I said softly. I couldn’t be mad at her; she was obviously losing her mind.

“Oh. I know that. We just, wanted to say hi. I’ll let you know when we land. Love you baby.” She hung up and tears hung at the corners of my eyelids, off my eyelashes. I looked down at the pasta on my plate; suddenly, the idea of food was abominable. I wasn’t sure if my mom was high, drunk, or on a steady mental decline. I had never been able to tell with her. 

She was the main subject of my rants in therapy.

Gerard sat back down across the table from me, his fists clenched. “I’m sorry about that. It was my mom. Her and her boyfriend have decided to surprise us with their presence for a week.”

“Ooh, when?” Gerard forced a smile, visibly uncomfortable by this news. I reached for his hands across the table, trying to fish them open so I could interlace our fingers, but his hands wouldn’t budge.

“Tonight.” I wiggled my fingers into his palm, watching his face blanch, devoid of all color. “What’s in your...hand,” my voice trailed off into a broken whisper as my fingertip brushes the unmistakable feel of velvet. “Gerard, what is in your hand.” It was more of a demand than a question. I watched his eyes dart to somebody behind me, then back on me, his gaze softening. He stood up, withdrawing his hands from mine, and I couldn’t breathe all over again.

It was as if I had tunnel vision. Nothing else mattered but the look on his face as he walked around the table to where I was sitting, resting his left hand on my knee as he sunk to his own. My bottom lip trembled dangerously and I forced a swallow down my throat, which had suddenly become dry. He nervously flicked his crimson hair out of his eyes and looked up at me, his mouth opening and shutting several times.

“Charlotte Payn, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Maybe that’s a cliche thing to say, but after this past week, I have never been more certain of something in my entire life. You make me laugh when I feel like crying, and you hold me when I think I’m dying. You’re out of this world beautiful, and you’re one of the most talented photographers I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching and I thank Frank everyday for taking over that class so I could smoke with you on that drainage pipe. Charlotte, I’m not going to tell you what’s in my hand. Partly because you already know, but mostly because I’m going to show you.”

After he finished talking and with silent tears streaming down my face, he popped open the small, ebony velvet box he held precariously between his slender fingers. A black diamond engagement ring nestled in red satin gleamed up at me.

“Charlie, will you be my wife?”


	29. Chapter 29

It wasn’t until I heard somebody, who I later found out was our gangly French waiter, screaming “YES, SAY YES!” that I came back to my senses and nodded, the room blurring together. Gerard was all smiles as he slid the ring onto my left hand and we both stood up before he dipped me down into a kiss. The other restaurant goers were all enamored with our spectacle and my cheeks were burning in reaction to the cheers echoing in my ears. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. 

Before I knew it, Frank was walking up to both of us, a hand on each of our shoulders. “I thought you were going to chicken the fuck out there, for a second.”

“What are you doing here?!” I was thoroughly confused. “You knew about this?”

“Of fucking course I knew about this. Jeez, Charlotte, do you know me at all? Do you know your husband to be at all, for that matter?” Frank clapped us on the back again before going off to talk to someone, and I saw a shadow cross Gerard’s face when he said that. It was gone before I could bring it up, because champagne was flowing and everybody was in on our engagement celebration.

“I was going to hold off on proposing after your mom called, but you felt the box in my hands and I knew I was screwed, I just knew it,” he grinned and shook his head. I let out a peal of laughter, pulling him closer to me. We were walking back to our car down the street, bundled tightly against the cool spring breeze.

“I’m engaged and my mom will be here in a few hours. Wow. Tonight has been amazing. Interesting,” I said as we arrived at his car. He pulled out two cigarettes, lighting one in between his lips and then pushing it between mine. I smirked while taking in a drag. I loved him.

“It’s going to get more interesting, too, by the sounds of it,” Gerard sighed, leaning against the hood of his black car. “Guess I finally get to meet your mom.”

“My mom is under the impression that she’s meeting my boyfriend. Do I tell her you’re my fiance? We could see who can keep it a secret the longest!” My face lit up at the prospect of a game, but my smile vanished when I saw Gerard’s face.

“Why do you want to keep it a secret?” He looked genuinely hurt. I waved my hands, desperately trying to undo any harm my words had caused.

“No, I didn’t mean it like, in a bad way. I don’t know. When things concern my mom, I tend to try and keep everything from her. So that just affected my way of thinking. I’m sorry, baby. I’m excited to be engaged to you. I’m going to be your wife,” I said slowly, tasting the way the words felt as they rolled off my tongue for the first time in my life.

“You will be Mrs. Charlotte Way,” he smirked again, regaining some of his pep.

“We all know you’re already Mr. Payn. P-a-i-n in the ass,” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Careful with your tongue. I just might kiss you.”

I solved his dilemma for him and threw myself at him until we were splayed across his car. His head had landed with a thud and I soothed him before going to town on his mouth. I hadn’t given in before dinner, I’d planned on making him wait until after dinner for sex. I, also, was waiting for ‘after dinner’ and it was driving me wild. Maybe it was the fact that I’d just been proposed to, as well. Maybe that had me a little friskier than normal.

But too soon, my phone was ringing, and it was the mother. She was getting her baggage. We needed to go get her. I told her where to wait, and that we’d be there in ten minutes. We sat inside Gerard’s car, our hands lingering on each others’ thighs for a second too long before Gerard sighed and put the car into gear.

  
  
  


“We’re going to be turning in kind of early. Jet lag, you know,” my mom said, pulling me into a hug.  _ But you didn’t go through a time change. _ “Gerard, it was so nice to meet you again. I’m glad my daughter finally found someone who’s not crazy.” 

“Oh, he’s plenty crazy, but so am I,” I said, squeezing my mom a little tighter. She had gotten so much smaller since the last time I had seen her. I was afraid of letting go; she might float away. She held me at arm’s length, a certain sadness in her eyes I couldn’t quite place.

“I’m happy that you’re happy, sweetheart. I love you.” 

The walk down to the car was full of silence between Gerard and I. He had wordlessly laced his fingers through mine and pulled me close to him. He knew when I needed silence or physical touch, and I would never be able to thank him enough for that.

“Your mom is lovely,” he said genuinely as he gave my hand a quick squeeze.

“She’s a good person. Regardless of what happened. I love her.” I meditated as I gazed out the window at the city going by, the lights blurring with the tears forming in my eyes. “Do you still want to marry me?”

The car lurched as his hand slipped on the steering wheel. “Why would you ask that?” There was an edge to his voice and I regretted not inflecting my voice with more sarcasm.

“After finding out how much of a mess my family is and seeing it first hand. I was mostly joking.”

“Mostly.” He echoed bitterly. “Of course I do, Charlotte, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. In fact, I think this is one of the only things I’ve ever actually been certain of.” My heart was burning with adoration, love, and a twinge of anxiety. I didn’t know anything about weddings. I didn’t know the first step to even starting to plan one. I reached over for Gerard’s free hand and stroked his thumb thoughtfully. “I can feel how worried you are. Are you upset at me for asking that without talking to you first? Was it a bad idea? You didn’t say yes out of obligation, did you?”

It was my turn to scoff. “Gerard, do you hear what you’re saying? I’m not worried. That much. And if I was, I would be worried about dealing with my mom after not talking to her for so long and how I’m going to tell her and how do I go about being engaged and planning a wedding?” I sighed. “I’m sorry. I just need to get home, take my meds, shower and sleep. A nice hot shower sounds so good right now.”

“A nice hot shower with  _ you _ sounds so good right now,” he quickly winked at me before turning his attention back to the road. We were getting off the freeway, almost back at his apartment.

“Have I ever told you how happy you make me?” I leaned over to rest my head on his shoulder, feeling it flex as he spun the wheel beneath his hands. I heard a small laugh rumble from his chest.

“Maybe once or twice.”

I thought about it and actually began to wonder how much I had actually verbally expressed my love and appreciation for him. Not enough. Definitely not enough. He deserved someone better than me-

_ STOP _ .

_ Shut the fuck up, and just do better from now on _ .

I didn’t divulge my whirlwind guilt complex that was swirling around inside of me to Gerard and instead whisked him from the car and up to the apartment, not giving him a chance to ask what I was so happy about (because he knew). 

“Do you want any coffee?” I asked in between putting the leftovers away in the refrigerator and pouring me a glass of milk. 

“It’s a little late, I feel. But,” Gerard’s eyes wandered over to the coffee machine, his chocolate eyes betraying that he did, in fact, want a cup of coffee. I sashayed over to the cupboard and pulled out a sleek black bag with gold embossing on it. “Is that…”

“Yes, this is the special reserve that I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” I said before sticking my tongue out. “And I got some in decaf so we can have it whenever we want.”

“I’m convinced you’re the perfect woman. You buy me fancy coffee for celebrations. I love you,” he mumbled because his lips were stretched tight into a grin. I started the coffee and leaned across the counter to take both of his hands in mine.

“And I love you. So much. You mean more to me than anybody ever has. You’ve stuck with me through thick and thin, which you can’t really say about me and I regret that. I’m sorry I ever left you and I’m sorry I hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing. But I will spend every day of the rest of my life making sure you feel loved and appreciated by my side because you are not only the love of my life, but my best friend. And I want to marry nobody except my best friend.” He looked at me from across the counter, his amber eyes softening like melting chocolate chips.

“I have spent my whole life looking for you. And I’m so excited for the rest of our lives.” He rose to his toes to pull me in for a kiss across the counter. “I love you so much, Charlotte Payn Way.”

“And I love you so much, Gerard Way.”

“Now let’s get those fancy coffee shots going!” He hollered, spinning on his heel to come into the kitchen and get the espresso machine running. I watched as he made sure all the knobs were set in their right place, test the temperature and shot time, the whole time a smile was creeping on my face. I loved seeing him happy. I loved seeing him in love. And it was with me.

We made creamy lattes with the black blend decaf espresso I had been keeping a secret from him and he kept looking at the ring on my left hand in disbelief, as if he couldn’t fathom that he was actually going to get to spend the rest of his life with me. “I can’t believe it, man. I just can’t believe it.”  A cartoon show was playing on the television in his red living room and we were bundled up under blankets together, our coffee cups peaking out of the top. “I can’t believe how good this coffee is.”

“I knew you would like it,” I said with a smile. 

“It’s like champagne but,” and for a split second my heart was dropping and I was expecting him to say ‘not as good’, but he said: “better. I love it.” He returned my smile, sensing the distress in my eyes and questioning it with an odd look.

“I just thought you were going to say something else.”

“I’m going to be fine, Charlie, know that. I’ve recovered from worse. And now I have my future wife to stay sober for. It’s going to be so worth it,” he said as a gradual grin spread across his lips, his short teeth peeking out from beneath them. “I love it.”

That sounded incredibly...healthy, actually. And I was so relieved to hear him say the word ‘sober’ before I had to say it like a threat or something. A breath of fresh air. We finished our coffee while watching some mindless cartoons and destressing from the day. An arm under my waist hauled me to my feet where my lips met with Gerard’s in an intense, sloppy, coffee kiss. “And now...I’ve been waiting all day for this. I think we had plans to have a steamy shower?” 

“I think we did, sir,” I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes, drawing the last word out a bit. His face darkened in the most delightful way and, without loosening his grip on me, he dragged me to the master bathroom. He had a nice bath, but it felt more like a shower kind of night. There were lingering red stains reminding me of the events a few days ago.  _ Moving onward _ . Most of it had been cleaned up nicely. Gerard turned on the rainfall showerhead he had and dimmed the lights in the bathroom while we both wriggled out of our clothes. Gerard stopped me at my underwear and held me at arms length. 

“Matching underwear...I can always appreciate a good set of lingerie, especially on you,” he stuck his tongue out before helping me out of the aforementioned underwear.

The water was searing the moment it made contact with my skin, running off down my body in all directions. I dipped my head back and inhaled the thick steam, the smell of cologne mingling with it. Gerard got in behind me, wrapping his arms around me and leaning over my reclined head to give me an upside down kiss. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“I’m sorry, do you want me to turn it down?” I reached for the shower handle but he rolled his eyes and I stopped. The cold tile was pressed against my back and I shivered, but he warmed me up with his own body heat. 

I don’t want to think about how much water we wasted that night, but we both agreed it was well worth it. After all, we both had a dire need for a super steamy shower that night. Because there was no way we could be prepared for what we didn’t know was going to happen tomorrow.

Gerard stirred next to me and I discovered he had already been awake. He smelled like coffee and cigarettes already, sipping a cup of what had to have been the caffeinated blend of the brand I had gotten him.

“Naughty you, sneaking into the special reserves,” I mumbled at him as I struggled to wake up completely. He was oddly silent, sitting up against our headboard absentmindedly clicking away on his laptop. “What’s up?”

It took him a while to respond. A million different worries began to sprout in my mind. This was his way of breaking off the engagement. It had been a mistake. The coffee was actually awful and he hated it. But the words he spoke were the last words I expected him to say. He shut his laptop, took a sip of coffee, then a deep breath:

“Let’s get married today.”


	30. The World Is Ugly

“You do realize we’re already married, right?” I couldn’t help but snicker as I stared at Gerard, his hands clasped over his eyes in horror.

“I just saw white and panicked. Oh no. Oh _no_. We gotta call it off, Charlotte. We gotta,” he huffed, trying to catch his breath. I was dressed in a lace, mermaid style gown my dad had insisted I let him get me. He wanted “his little girl” to have the wedding of her dreams. Frank was still the only other person who knew we had gotten married beforehand, and I liked it that way. It was our little secret, our little story we kept tucked away.

“Shit. Looks like we have to get a divorce because Mr. Way couldn’t keep his eyes off his totally-not-already-bride.” I had been perched on the bench in the sitting room to put my shoes on; matte, all black Converse. “Do you want to at least look at my shoes?”

“Nope. Can’t risk it.”

“What if I drop this mirror on purpose?” I asked, taking the distraction of the conversation as a way to sneak up behind him, lacing my arms around his waist and swaying softly. He lowered his hands, reaching down to clasp my hands under his.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He said quietly.

“Maybe once or twice. Maybe,” I replied, leaning forward to rest my forehead against his back.

“I’m so happy.”

“I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“But you’re sure about this, right? Because there’s still time to change our minds about everything. We can just go back to living quietly down the street from the university. I can teach there still, you can-”

“Do you not want to move to San Francisco?” My heart was thudding in my chest. It had already been hammering away, but now I was afraid Gerard hadn’t been completely honest.

“No, no, I do. I promise I do. It’s just…” his voice trailed off and he looked down at his shoes.

“New things are always scary,” I said, taking a step back to wriggle out of his grasp. But he held tight to my arm, pulling me back against him.

“Yeah.”

We stood like that for a while, silently swaying to a song neither of us could hear.

“I love you.”

 

* * *

 

 

I could hardly see. The lights were making me sweat and I was dangerously close to pit stains on my white gown my mother had insisted on buying me. She flew solo to my wedding, sitting somberly next to my father and Jordin. Dad had insisted it wouldn’t be awkward.

But I still felt awkward, standing up in front of all of our friends and family, telling them all how much I loved Gerard and how happy I was to spend the rest of my life with him. Something I had been sure of a long time ago and that I had already solidified with marriage, but they didn’t need to know that. Only Frank knew, nestled in between our families, smiling from ear to ear. It struck me that I wouldn’t be standing up on that stage, a dark band around my left ring finger, if it weren’t for Frank. Gerard and I were indebted to him.

Very rarely did my dad ever cry. I’m pretty sure he was allowed to on my wedding night, though, without question. He looked juxtaposed with his rough demeanor tucked inside a tuxedo. He was also struggling to compose himself throughout our entire dance.

“Everything is set to be shipped to your new apartment. I have all the tracking numbers-”  
“Dad. We’ll talk about that later. But let’s just dance right now.” He was avoiding the silence because he was afraid he had run out of time to tell me everything he had wanted to say.

“I remember your sixth birthday when Thomas didn’t come to your party and you swore to me that boys were gross and you were never going to be friends with one, ever again,” he said quietly as we swayed to the music. “Another time I proved to be right in the end.”

Tears were brimming in my eyes and I pressed my cheek to his shoulder. “I love you so much, Dad.” My voice was breaking and cracking and I was definitely going to ruin my makeup.

“I’m just so happy you’re happy.”

Butterfly Kisses continued to play softly and we lazily spun around the wooden floor, our shoes scuffing quietly the only other sound in the gazebo. Gerard’s space spun past mine once or twice, but all I was thinking about was the man I was clinging too. I was afraid, but I was excited. My heart was sinking and soaring all at the same time. “I’ll miss you.”

“We’ll probably see each other more than we did while you were in college. So. When can I expect grandbabies?” I threw my head back and laughed, taking the opportunity to wipe the tears flowing down my face. It was perfect timing; the song ended with a flourish. My dad pulled me in for a hug and kiss on the cheek then walked me back over to Gerard. “I think this is yours.”

Gerard grinned impishly, and I blushed. I _blushed_. I was fucking married to him and he was still making me blush. I loved it. Gerard wrapped me against his chest as I walked my dad mosey back over to his table where his girlfriend was waiting, along with Jordin and Jordin’s new boyfriend.

“Words can’t describe how beyond stoked I am,” I heard myself saying.

“You know, most people would say ‘it’s the happiest day of my life’ or some bullshit like that, but you’re beyond stoked. It must be a really good day, then,” Gerard said. I nudged him lightly in the ribs with my elbow.

“I’m too happy to give you shit right now,” I spun around and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. It was time for the toast. Frank was stepping up onto his chair to where he nearly reached an average height. He was clinking a knife against an empty champagne glass, hollering something.

“Oh god, what the hell is he going to say,” Gerard said quietly. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“So I knew Gerard a long time ago. And then I met Charlotte. Gerard, you’re my best fucking-shit, I’m sorry. Gerard, you’re my best friend and I would die for you. Charlotte, you should know that if you ever treat him bad I’ll swoop in and marry him in a heartbeat. Gerard, you should know that if you ever treat her bad I’ll kick your ass. But,” he took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and slumping, “I don’t think either of those situations will ever happen because you two are fucking p-sorry, because you two are perfect. Here’s to the two hot bastards. SHIT, I’m _sorry!_ ” Someone was yanking Frank down by his coattails, probably trying to get him to stop cursing in front of all of our families.

I was about to burst from the laughter I was containing at the sight of the conservative side of my mom’s family unsure of how to respond to Frank’s toast. My dad saved the day, yet again, but standing up and clapping.

Several more toasts were proclaimed, and then we had to go around to thank everybody for coming. As awful as it sounded, this was the first time I offically met Gerard’s family. He introduced his father to me, and pulled his brother, Mikey, away from the table to introduce us. He was terribly quiet and the reception was in full blast so I had to lean in to hear him.

“I’ve heard... _so much_ about you that’s it’s rad to finally see you in person. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for this to happen, but, you know, that’s what happens when you live on the other side of the country, huh bro?” He also elbowed Gerard, who just giggled and looked down. “But seriously, I’m so happy you guys got together and sealed the deal officially.” I glanced over at Gerard, who looked up and flicked his eyes to my face.

“Hey, I had to tell him, okay?” He said sheepishly. I just laughed.

“I honestly do not care. But it’s so great to meet you too. Gerard almost never shuts up about you,” I added on, pulling Mikey into a quick hug.

“I’ll catch you in a bit,” Gerard said to Mikey, giving him knuckles, before he put his hand on the small of my back and we went to the next table over; my mom.

I hadn’t been sure where to seat her on the chart. I definitely did not want her next to my dad and his girlfriend and their happy family. She had ended up coming alone. Donna, Gerard’s mom, was currently sitting and talking to her. I panicked, knowing how awkward my mother could be, but from Donna’s easy poise, they seemed to be getting along well.

“There’s my baby girl!” My mom stood up and pulled me down into a hug, ripping me from Gerard’s arms.

“Awwww, mom.” I was crying. I didn’t know why.

 

* * *

 

 

I was crying. I didn’t know why. Gerard was still at work and he probably would still be there a few hours from then. I was sitting on the kitchen floor, staring at the photo of my mom and me from my wedding. We’d just gotten all of the portraits from the photographers and I couldn’t help but stare at them.

Shortly after the wedding, my mom’s health took a turn for the worse. She’d been neglecting her health ever since she moved away, her weight dropping rapidly, exacerbating the bags under her eyes and the lines around her mouth and the hip bones that barely held up a double size pair of pants.

My aunt, whom I rarely spoke to, had just called to tell me they’d finally gotten her back down to Los Angeles and into a hospital. I hadn’t had any contact with my mom save an argument we’d had a few days before she was admitted. I was trying to come to terms with the fact that she may no longer be with us soon.

Gerard had been a saint in helping me deal with it. We’d postponed our honeymoon, largely due in part to the fact that we moved to San Francisco the day after the wedding and he had begun a job at the San Francisco Art Institute teaching illustration, which required him to work through the summer to hash out the curriculum. I had toyed with the idea of getting a dog, or a cat, or a fucking gerbil at this point. I was just tired of being alone. At his insistence, I was taking a hiatus before I began my own new job as the photographer for a prestigious concert photographer based on the Wharf. They’d graciously approved the request to delay the start of my job, so I was spending my days in bed in pajamas, on the couch in pajamas, walking to 7-11 to get ice cream in pajamas.

I could tell he was worried. I could tell he wanted to drop everything at the college and stay home with me watching old Batman reruns until I smiled again. I could tell he didn’t know what to do. But he would come home with arms full of my favorite restaurant’s chow mein and cream cheese wontons, just to try to get me to eat something. I was still sitting on the kitchen floor when he came home.

“Charlie?” He called out softly when he walked in the door. “You know, I was thinking maybe tonight we could go out to din-” He stopped mid sentence when he turned the corner from the entryway into the kitchen and saw me sitting there. I felt pathetic; I didn’t look up to meet his gaze. He dropped his briefcase on the counter and settled down on the tile next to me, wrapping an arm around me so I could lean my head on his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything. I loved that about him.

Slender fingers snaked along my wrist to lightly dance in my outstretched palm, almost in time with the soft piano music I had left on repeat on the television. The cold tile pressed against my legs chilled me, but his warm body thawed me out. Inside I was shaking, I was screaming, but I was just sitting there enveloped by my husband’s love. Everything about me was at war with itself.

“I’m crying. And I don’t know why.” I finally said.

“Yeah you do. I’m sorry, baby. I’m here now,” he cooed, putting his hands under mind and wiggling his fingers so mine did as well. “Anything you want? Chinese food? Ice cream? A massage? Want me to draw you a bath? A stupid funny movie?”

“You’re so great and I’m so...this,” I motioned vaguely to myself.

“You have shit going on right now. And the new meds probably aren’t helping. You have a lot going on. You’re allowed to be like ‘this’, whatever you want to call ‘this’. You’re healing. You’re resting. You’re going to be okay. You’re the strongest person I know, Charlie.”

 _He was right_.

“Life happens, and whether we happen along with it or not is up to us. That was phrased awfully, but you get what I mean. I’ll help you out as much as I can. You know I will. You’re my favorite person.”

“What about Frank?” I asked, my mouth muffled by my arm which I was currently burying my face in.

“There we go. Some humor,” he nudged me. “So what’ll it be?”

“Stupid movies.”

He scooped me up and set me on the couch, tugging off my slippers before he traipsed off to change into pajamas of his own.

“How you manage to be so upset and still look absolutely stunning has to be some sort of witchcraft,” he muttered, almost bitterly, as he sat down by my feet and began clicking through Netflix. I couldn’t help but smirk at that.

“Hey. You’re beautiful too, you know? To me, at least.” I was full on grinning, and it felt so foreign.

“The world may be ugly, but you’re beautiful to me,” he said, deciding on a shitty movie. “I think you need to be told that more.”

Tears were brimming again. I was feeling too many things; sadness, anger at my mother, and complete and utter adoration that was spreading like warmth from my chest to every appendage on my body. How I found him was a miracle. I had been staring at him absentmindedly throughout that entire thought process. “What are you thinking about?” He asked.

“You.”


End file.
